Carmen Navarro
by MJRod
Summary: V. Season 4.20: Once upon a time, boy meets girl. The title character's first name is from a David Dortort script proposal. VKS & MJRod give Mano the life his creator envisioned, but with a path to matrimony full of adventure, the ultimate buddy road trip & new & old enemies & friends. Read, review, enjoy. Our season 4 stories are in order but also designed to be read separately.
1. Chapter 1

**Carmen Navarro**

 **By VKS & MJRod**

 _ **This "High Chaparral" fan fiction piece by VKS & MJRod honors our favorite western and continues to round out season four. It is dedicated to Henry and Lauren Darrow who, we hope, may see a bit of themselves in Mano and Carmen.**_

 **Carmen Navarro Chapter One: Once upon an Evening**

"Nephew, if I were younger, that is the woman I would pursue," Don Domingo de Montoya whispered to Don Manolo Montoya as their eyes joined the gilded ballroom full of eyes to watch the entrance of Don Carlos de Vargas, his wife, and his sister. The portly, balding Don Carlos escorted both women on his arms: his plump wife, the Doña Maria, and his slender sister, the widowed Carmen Vargas y Padilla de Navarro.

Carmen Navarro, in her late twenties, was among the most eligible and desirable young women in Mexico City. Her young husband, killed in a military campaign years before, had left her childless and in possession of lands, a fine hacienda southwest of Cajeme, and a comfortable income. She lived with her brother and his family in Mexico City more out of a wish not to be alone than from any economic necessity. She adored her nieces and nephews, tolerated her sister-in-law and brother. And she was beautiful: with large brown eyes, full lips, and almond skin the texture of silk...or so it appeared to those who admired her.

Carmen smiled at their hosts as the family was announced upon their entry. Her raven hair, braided and coiled atop her head to support a black mantilla, shone as a crown, making her seem taller than she was. But then, compared to her brother and sister-in-law, anyone might seem tall, Mano concluded, appraising. Accustomed to sizing up women, he estimated her height to be the same as that of his sister, Victoria. He knew that Carmen Navarro had refused all suitors, older, established men foisted upon her by her family. He had wondered why, and now that he had seen her, he was intrigued.

This was his first trip to Mexico City since he had gone to search for his Tío Domingo in the days following the death of his father, Don Sebastian. Mano much preferred the open range to the city, but one did not refuse an invitation to a ball at the presidential palace honoring the governor of Sonora. His uncle had insisted they come. In his black dress suit and ruffled white shirt, Mano knew he cut a handsome, rakish figure. I must attempt to dance with this woman, he mused...if she will have me. He hardly felt it as his uncle nudged him toward the Vargas family, now surrounded by friends offering their greetings.

"Good evening, my friends," Don Domingo interrupted, insinuating himself into the center of the milling crowd. Carlos Vargas had once owed him a large sum of money, a gambling debt which Domingo had forgiven after his own windfall—when his brother bequeathed him the Rancho Montoya. Domingo could thus interrupt with impunity. "Señoras y señor, may I present my nephew, Don Manolo de Montoya," he announced. Mano nodded, kissed the proffered hand of Doña Maria in a polite, perfunctory manner, and lingered longer than necessary when taking the hand of Carmen Navarro. Her eyes met his and she, too, was intrigued. She had heard of this one.

"I hope the señoras will save a dance for me this evening," Mano said with a smile.

He looks like a prince, Carmen thought. Mid-thirties. Never married, from what she had heard. Good-looking. No stranger to the ladies, she also knew. Not too picky about women when he was younger. Indiscriminate, in fact. However, we all grow up. She had found no one to interest her since the death of her husband. But this one...well, we shall see, she thought. She smiled in return as he kissed her hand...and a spark flared between them which startled them both.

And thus it began.

Carmen was a practical woman. She knew she could not live with her brother and his family forever. She was not in a position to _have_ to marry, nor to marry for anything save love. She desired passion and fidelity. Looking at Manolo Montoya, she was certain he could supply at least one of these.

"They call me Manolito," he smiled, cheeks dimpling and dark eyes twinkling. Carmen again smiled in return. The orchestra obliged at this moment by striking up a waltz. "May I?" he asked. She nodded her agreement. Off he swept her to the dance floor. He was polite, charming, and graceful…all that she was herself. They kept up a light banter, and his eyes never left hers. She enjoyed the dance as she had enjoyed no dance in a very long time.

"Some wine, señora?" Mano inquired as the music ended and a waiter drifted by bearing a platter of goblets.

"Gracias," she replied, inclining her head, and he lifted two crystal glasses from the waiter's tray and presented her with one. He nodded to her and raised a glass.

"To the loveliest woman here."

She smiled her reply.

She was elegant and beautiful, Mano thought. And gracious and graceful.

"You are here with your uncle? He seems to know my brother," Carmen opened, fingering her glass.

"Yes. I divide my time between the Rancho Montoya in Sonora, my sister's ranch in Arizona, and my own small place," Mano explained. "At present I am assisting my uncle to, ah, understand the workings of my late father's ranch."

"It is not your rancho?"

"No. Papá knew I did not want the…" he paused. "The responsibility."

"Oh? You seem to have changed your mind."

"No. But I do seem to be acquiring responsibility whether I want it or not," he chuckled.

"My husband was one such as you. He chose the military, I think, partly to avoid having to make too many decisions. He was killed."

"I am sorry to hear that," Mano said. He meant this, for he understood the pain of loss, but in truth he was not altogether sorry, as his eyes revealed. Carmen saw and comprehended all. The music began again as they finished their wine. "Permiso?" Mano asked as he took her glass with his and gave both to a passing waiter. "Another dance?"

"All right."

Afterward, Carmen was promised to another and then another, but Mano watched her all night as she negotiated clumsy young men and hopeful old men as partners. He danced with none other except for an obligatory waltz with the Doña Maria. As the orchestra signaled its final selection, he saw his chance to cut in by touching the shoulder of a very old man who had begun to wheeze and cough.

"Señor y señora? May I?" The old man smiled his gratitude and Mano whirled Carmen around the floor again. This time the two danced with more animation than before, as he twirled her about. The orchestra leader noticed and obliged by quickening the tempo to a tango. Mano and Carmen laughed when each realized the other knew the dance. Other dancers made room and watched them as they performed, given the formal occasion, a rather sedate yet graceful tango till the music ended. Then they laughed, bowed and curtsied to applause, the center of attention that comes so naturally to any attractive couple.

Don Carlos also watched and scowled.

After this, the talk was that the son of Don Sebastian de Montoya and the nephew of Don Domingo de Montoya was captivated by Carmen Navarro.

And so he was.

He asked permission to call upon Carmen at the home of her brother.

And so he did.

And thus the courtship of Carmen Navarro by Manolo Montoya began in earnest.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	2. Chapter 2

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Two: Love and a Proposal of Marriage**

"What does he have to offer you?" Don Carlos de Vargas demanded of his sister, one month later. Manolito's attentions had been persistent and in advance of his visit this day, he had asked to speak to Don Carlos alone. Knowing her brother's tendency to bombast, Carmen had prepared him for the topic she knew would be broached. "He did not inherit his father's vast rancho, did he?" Don Carlos stormed.

"A good thing for you he did not," Carmen snapped in reply. She knew of her brother's gambling debts, forgiven by Don Domingo. She had loaned her brother money on more than one occasion herself.

"As your guardian…"

"Let me make this perfectly plain, my brother. You are not my guardian. I am a woman of property and I am of age. I may marry whomever I choose. I do not need your permission, either in the eyes of the law or of the Church. And for your information, hermano mío, Manolo owns champion stallions and will one day in all likelihood inherit the Rancho Montoya. Not that this matters to me."

"But Carmenita, his reputation…"

"Is what you wish yours had been, Carlos."

Don Carlos growled. "You love this man?"

"Yes, my brother. And I desire a life with him." It will be a life of adventure, Carmen mused. Perhaps unsettled but never boring and never lacking passion, even if I grow as plump and as plain as my sister-in-law.

Don Carlos, purpled-faced, breathing hard, grunted his assent.

Good, thought Carmen. Now it will be much easier for Manolo to say what must be said. She smiled.

And so it was.

* * *

The wedding was at first to be a small affair, in the chapel of the Hacienda Montoya...but this plan appeared quickly to change. The Vargas family was too well known and the Montoya name bespoke grandeur and style. Besides, Victoria would allow no small affair, not now that her brother was finally settling down.

"Manolito, I am so happy," Victoria had gushed when she had first seen him and then again when she met his future wife. She adored Carmen from the start. How lovely it would be to have a sister-in-law whose visits to the High Chaparral rancho would alleviate the loneliness she sometimes felt. How good it would be to have another woman to talk to. And how fine it was that Manolito would no longer carouse but would become the gentleman she knew he could be. Or so she hoped.

Their meeting had occurred as soon as possible. Victoria had flown to the Rancho Montoya in haste, just after her brother had written them from Sonora of the engagement.

"Mano, gettin' married?" Buck Cannon's eyebrows lifted in disbelief when Victoria told him during dinner at the High Chaparral the day Manolito's letter had arrived. She knew the news would come as a surprise to her husband's brother.

"Yes, she is of an old family and he met her in Mexico City with Tío Domingo," Victoria explained.

"Well, I'll be."

"Yup," John Cannon grinned. "'Bout time one of you settled down."

"I'll jes be. Where you think they gonna live?"

"Well, they will have homes everywhere," Victoria exclaimed. "Here, at the High Chaparral!" John frowned. "And at your rancho, Buck." She paused. The C-Bar-M was much too small and crude...she did not say this, but continued, rapid-fire, "And at the Rancho Montoya. Carmen Navarro even possesses a ranch of her own, from her first marriage."

"You mean?"

"Yes, John, she is a widow."

"A wealthy widow, I figger," Buck laughed. Victoria's eyes flashed.

"Buck, you know Manolito has never cared about money. This is why my uncle, not my brother, controls our father's ranch!"

"Jes calm down, Victoria. I know'd it. But it's jes like Mano to get hisself a lady with money an' looks. I'm shore she ain't ugly. Does she have any chillun?"

"No, she was married quite young and her husband died young as well. He was in the army. She has lived with her brother's family. I have heard of her, and only good things. Besides, Buck, you know what Tío Domingo has informed Manolito. He _will_ inherit Rancho Montoya one day!" As he should, Victoria thought but did not say.

"Yup. As he should," John added, voicing what Victoria had only thought. She smiled at her husband with grateful eyes.

"John, it may be that they will want to stay with us for extended periods."

Of course they will, John thought, knowing his life was about to change as well. "And they will always be welcome, Victoria," he assured her. "Besides, I can't afford to lose Mano. If nothing else, I need him to deal with your uncle!"

"Boy, that's for dang shore," Buck added between large bites of roast beef.

They all laughed at this, but they knew that Manolito had become a de facto diplomatic liaison between the two ranches. He seemed to be able to persuade Don Domingo to comply with John Cannon's ideas most of the time...and to smooth the waters with John when this was not possible. And John had learned, over the years, to listen to his brother-in-law more often than not.

The wedding was to be within two months, the date yet to be confirmed. Victoria had begun packing for Sonora that afternoon. Buck and she would go to the Rancho Montoya until the marriage. John would send the hands Reno, Pedro, and Joe along, with instructions to return to Arizona once Victoria had arrived safely at her uncle's. John, as usual, was too busy to leave the ranch.

"Victoria, I will be down for the wedding. I cannot leave twice in one season."

"But John!"

"I am sorry, dear. I will see you next month or whenever they set the date. Let me know the plans."

John begrudged losing Buck for that length of time, but this was family, after all. He, his foreman Sam Butler, and a few of the boys would come down for the wedding. He had no desire to be anywhere near the prenuptial festivities. And so he kissed his wife goodbye the following morning and watched the buckboard and horsemen till they were out of sight. Then he turned to a month or more of work and eating with the fellas in the bunkhouse. He was going to miss his wife.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	3. Chapter 3

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Three: Two Worlds Collide**

"But Manolo, this can be no small affair," Victoria insisted days later at the Hacienda Montoya. "Our families are too well known. At least you must consider the cathedral at Hermosillo if not Mexico City! What would Papá say, God rest his soul!?"

Manolito replied that he did not care what Papá might say, and anyway, Papá would be present nearby in the family crypt if they were to hold the ceremony in the Montoya chapel. "This is not her first marriage, Victoria. We do not want a crowd of people we do not know!" And on and on it had gone. He was thankful for Buck, who pulled him away for a drink or a ride to Nogales whenever they could sneak away from Victoria.

Their arguments continued for days...from the time of Victoria's rapid arrival—her speed of response to his letter had even surprised Manolito—until the coming, one week later, of Carmen and her sister-in-law for a gathering of the future in-laws. More like a tribunal, Mano laughed. What had he gotten into? When the servant Pepe announced the approach of the Vargas entourage, Mano felt queasy. But when Carmen alighted from the carriage behind her bustling sister-in-law, he remembered. One did not marry the in-laws, after all.

Carmen was lovely. And her eyes shone with affection for only him. Until he had returned to the Rancho Montoya, he had been a constant presence at her brother's home in Mexico City since they had met. This was her first visit to meet his relatives in Sonora. And here she would remain.

Not that the wedding had not been a topic of discussion. Far from it.

Opinions in formal letters and terse telegrams had been exchanged between the Montoya and Vargas clans till it seemed to Mano and Carmen that their own preferences mattered not at all. With their sisters finally together at the Hacienda Montoya, they surprised all by announcing after dinner that they would be married in the chapel there, as originally planned. Only their closest relatives and friends would be present for the ceremony. Padre Sánchez would officiate. Punto y se acabó. Carmen smiled. This was fine with her. She only wanted to marry him and she had already had a large wedding years before. Doña Maria spluttered; Victoria sighed. But the couple remained unmoved and it was agreed. Buck grinned and slapped his amigo on the back. Domingo's eyes twinkled. He blew a smoke ring but said nothing.

"Then we must have a fiesta afterward!" Victoria proclaimed. "A large fiesta, here, at the Hacienda Montoya!" She paused, realizing she now needed her uncle's permission for this. Don Domingo nodded his assent with a smile.

"But of course, my beautiful niece. How else would we celebrate the marriage of my nephew?"

And thus it was so.

* * *

"Padre Sánchez has agreed to the date," Manolito informed the women two days later. The marriage was set for the following month, four Fridays hence, in early May. Mano and Buck, glad to escape the Hacienda Montoya, had ridden to the dusty little pueblo of Casa Cueva early that day to discuss the matter with the padre, who was only too happy to oblige. For many years now he had hoped Manolito would settle down, and he had often despaired of this ever coming to pass. Upon learning that Carmen now stayed in Sonora with her sister-in-law and Señora Cannon, Padre Sánchez offered to come to the Rancho Montoya the next day to offer his counsel and guidance before the marriage.

"No, Padre," Manolito interjected. "Carmen and I will come to you in Casa Cueva. Buck can accompany us so that all appears above reproach. We shall see you tomorrow."

"Too many women at the hacienda, Manolito?" The padre laughed.

"You kin say that agin, Padre," Buck chimed in, rolling his eyes.

The men repaired to the cantina for glasses of tequila before setting out again. And then, of course, prior to returning to the hacienda, it became necessary to check in on the alcalde of Casa Cueva, their old friend, Vaquero; his niece, Teresa; and her husband, Roy Lauder, who assisted them in their horse breeding business. Neither Buck nor Mano was surprised to see an infant in Teresa's arms as the friends greeted one another in front of the livery.

"Congratulations, amigos! I heard the baby had arrived the first of the year. I have been meaning to pay a visit," Mano exclaimed, smiling at the baby but keeping a safe distance.

"Well, you forgot to tell me the little one wuz born, S'nor Montoya," Buck said, moving closer and grinning at the baby.

"And you forgot to _ask_ , compadre," Mano replied with clenched teeth. Buck glanced at his friend, ignored his tone, and started cooing and winking at the infant whose large brown eyes, placid and calm, seemed to stare right through him.

"What we got here? Tell Uncle Buck, is you a boy or a girl?" Buck grinned, pulling on the baby's bare toe peeking out of the blanket.

"A muchacha!" Vaquero informed them, smiling and proud. "Just as young Wind predicted."

"Roy boy, nice goin'!" Buck exclaimed.

"And I am still working with the horses, even now," proclaimed Teresa. "The baby just comes along." All laughed at this news, although this came as no surprise, either. Teresa is independent, that one, Mano thought.

"Well, what's this little gal's name?" Buck asked in a soft voice, grinning and still making faces.

"It's Ana, after Teresa's mama," Roy said. Vaquero nodded, solemn, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Ana Manuelita," Teresa finished." Roy grinned and looked down.

"I mean, I wouldn'ta ever met Teresa if it wasn't for you, Mano," Roy said. "I might even be dead."

"We have been wanting to tell you, Manolito, but you have been occupied with other things," Vaquero smiled. Mano grinned, a magnificent smile, while Buck chuckled, amused.

"Oh, we wanted to name her after you also, Señor Buck," Teresa added. "Buck just did not seem to fit. So we have decided to call her first horse after you. It will be Buck!"

Mano burst out laughing and Buck shook his head and laughed as well. "Well, that be mighty fine, Missy Teresa. Mighty fine!" Buck said.

"And now you must see the mares, Mano and Buck," Vaquero announced with pleasure. "All that we purchased last spring are in foal to Toronado. They will deliver early next month. The mustangs you captured last summer are responding well also, and we should be able to breed them soon. The two mustang mares already in foal when you brought them here have delivered a colt and a filly. The new stallion, Osito, is settling in, too. We think you can breed from him in a year or so. Ruiz agrees."

"Yup," Roy added as the men viewed a fine sable stallion with a white whorl on his forehead prancing in the smaller corral and walked to the stables to view six mares, all large-bellied, soon to foal. "It's all goin' real good."

A survey of the stables and corrals left Mano and Buck satisfied. "Our horse bizness is comin' right along, Mano," Buck observed. "Up at Chaparral, Diablo's doing his work, too. We gonna have some real money one o' these days, amigo. You gonna be able to keep Missy Carmen in high cotton."

"In high what?" Mano asked. "High cotton?"

"In style, amigo."

"Buck, my Carmen does not care about material goods. She only loves me."

"You jes go on thinkin' that, amigo. But don't you fergit a birthday, y'hear?" The men smiled but all were pleased at the progress of their enterprise, and Mano found himself making a mental tally of their holdings.

"Chihuahua, Buck, we are going to be rich someday!"

With handshakes, good wishes, and grins, they took leave of their friends soon after. Mano pressed gold coins, supplemented on the sly with banknotes from Buck, into Roy's hand before they mounted up.

"Por su hija. For your daughter, Roy," Mano explained.

"Grass-i-as," Roy replied while Teresa, who noticed, beamed.

"Bye, little Ana Manuelita!" Buck chortled as the two rode out and both men waved. "A-dios!"

"What are you still laughing about, compadre?" Mano hissed as they rode under the broken arch and away from the pueblo.

"Oh, I was jes thinkin' about them namin' that little baby gal after you, amigo, an' I got tickled."

"Oh?"

"Well," Buck chuckled. "I figure this is one littlun that ain't named after you for no other reason, if you know whut I mean."

"Ah ha ha," Mano replied, sarcastic, raising the back of his hand as if to slap his amigo. "Muy divertido. Very funny," he paused, then added. "And you know, I have been thinking, too."

"You have?"

"Yes. I have been thinking that I know what part of a horse's anatomy they were looking at when they decided to name the caballito after you, Uncle Buck!"

"Yeah, you prob'ly right, Mano!" Buck roared.

* * *

And so it was late in the evening when Mano and Buck again rode into the courtyard of the Hacienda Montoya. Neither Victoria nor the Doña Maria appeared pleased, but Carmen's eyes sparkled when she saw Manolito and she smiled as he entered the room.

"And where have you two been?" Victoria demanded. "We needed the date confirmed before we could begin to compose the invitations."

"Hermanita mía, it is but a small affair. What invitations?"

"Invitations, Manolo. Invitations. They must be delivered immediately."

"The padre has agreed to officiate on the fourth Friday from this week, as we discussed, my sister. Had he been unable to do so, Father Ruffino would have obliged or we would have found a priest somewhere. Madre mía."

"Men. No consideration at all," fumed the Doña Maria in a voice shrill enough to rival Victoria's. Mano frowned as he saw the danger: his sister and his sister-in-law appeared to have formed an alliance. No wonder Don Carlos had remained in Mexico City to take care of the business interests Manolito knew he did not have. Ay yi yi. This was not good.

Don Domingo had long before excused himself to his study to smoke and to read. Buck rolled his eyes and made for the stables to talk to the stable master, Ruiz. Carmen chuckled as she watched Buck's hasty retreat. "A walk, my beloved?" she asked Mano. Turning to the others, she said, "Only around the courtyard. It will be most proper. We need _no_ chaperone."

"Permiso." Mano nodded, smiled, and took her arm, escorting her outside. From the cloudless sky, a full moon bathed the garden in a blue light. As they strolled beside the bubbling fountain in the midst of the courtyard, they paused, and he drew her close.

"Must we wait so many weeks?" Mano asked, his lips touching her forehead.

"Beloved, it is little to ask of our sisters."

"I am not thinking about our sisters."

"No. Nor am I. At least I am not thinking about Maria, who cares only for herself. She will never forgive us for not marrying in Mexico City," Carmen replied. "What a disappointment. It was to have been an enormous social coup for her."

"I _especially_ do not care about Maria," he smiled. Tilting Carmen's chin upwards, he kissed her on the mouth and she reciprocated.

"Ay, Manolito, but I do care about _your_ sister," Carmen replied after a moment, taking his hand and leading him to a courtyard bench, where they sat on the cool wrought iron.

"What? Victoria?"

"Victoria's own wedding to Señor Cannon was a hasty affair, was it not?"

"Yes, arranged by Papá."

"They love each other very much, this I am given to understand. But the marriage did not begin this way, no?"

"No."

"Do you not see? Victoria is enjoying these preparations that should have marked her own wedding."

"Oh. Yes, I do see." He kissed her again. "Carmen, you are a marvel."

"It costs us nothing to oblige them, Manolo. Only a few weeks."

He exhaled and sighed. "True. Only a few weeks." He held her hand and his lips brushed against her fingertips and then her cheek...and he whispered in her ear, "And it will be a very long few weeks, I fear."

He had no idea how true these words would be.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	4. Chapter 4

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Four: Three Amigos**

"Whut you two doing out here?" Buck ambled by the courtyard fountain, spying Mano and Carmen on the bench. "Oh, I'm sorry, amigos. But I ain't goin' back in that house till it's time fer supper, an' Ruiz ain't in the stables." Mano looked at him, not amused. But Carmen laughed, a bright, throaty yet musical sound.

"Come and join us, Señor Buck," she said.

"Jes Buck to you, ma'am." He tipped his dusty black hat.

"Buck then. Come and tell me of this man I am to marry," Carmen smiled.

"Well, whut you wanna know?"

"I hear he is most brave," she teased.

"Oh, he tell ya that, did he? Well, I guess that's true enough. If he ain't brave, he's pretty dang foolish, takin' all them risks." Buck looked at the ground, then at his friend, a grin creasing his leathery face.

"And I hear he has known _many_ women."

"Ma'am, that ain't for me to tell. But I ain't never seen him look at one like he looks at you." Buck could have told her much more, but he liked this little gal. No use stirrin' the pot.

"If you do not mind, would you both please stop talking about me as if I were not here?" Mano said, his lips straight, moving little.

Buck and Carmen laughed. This lil Carmen was aw right, Buck thought. Mano'd done okay.

"Permiso, gentlemen, but I must return to our sisters before they plan my entire wedding without me." Carmen rose and, smiling at Mano, glided away.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mano. I jes couldn'take that cacklin' inside no more," Buck said, settling on the bench where Carmen had been.

"Sí, I know what you mean."

"She's purty, Mano. Real purty."

"Buck, she is beautiful."

"Yeah, she is. Nice, too. You done okay."

"Gracias. She is most remarkable, is she not?"

"Yup." Buck paused. "Where you gonna live, Mano?"

"I suspect we will divide our time among the ranchos," he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Unlike her brother, I actually do have business interests, no? And Tío Domingo still needs me." He sighed.

"John, too."

"John, too. Buck, please know this," Mano said, shifting to look his friend in the eye. "You will always be welcome in our home, wherever it may be. Carmen has said so, too."

"I knew I liked that lil gal. Thank ya, Mano. But we got us more'n a month, amigo, before that weddin'. What we gonna do? We cain't hang aroun' all these women folk."

"No, we cannot. I have an idea, compadre. We must wait until after tomorrow, when Carmen and I must see Padre Sánchez. There is no telling what he will say to us. If she still wishes to marry me after that, we will leave the planning to the women, eh? And perhaps we shall see about doing some horse trading."

"I like that, amee-go."

"If nothing else, it will help the time to pass, no?"

"It will help the time to pass, yes."

They sat on the courtyard bench in silence. Much could be said, but they understood each other as brothers, so little needed to be spoken.

"Buck, you will stand beside me as padrino, yes? I think you call it best man?" Mano broke the silence.

"Shore I will, but I ain't got no thirteen gold coins," Buck said, recalling Roy's wedding to Teresa in Casa Cueva.

"Never mind about that. I am sure Tío Domingo will oblige. You will merely need to hand them to me. It is a formality. A ceremony. Symbolic. Nothing more."

"Well, I spect I could sell somethin'."

"No, amigo. Just be there. And keep me from shooting my in-laws. You have not met her brother."

"Well, seein' how things is with that sister-in-law o' hers, I may feel like shootin' somebody myself. Dang, Mano, that woman's gotta mouth on her."

"You have no idea, compadre."

They laughed and when the laughter died down, sat in silence again until Pepe summoned them to dinner.

* * *

On the following day, Padre Sánchez said nothing to disillusion Carmen or to change Mano's mind, but the day was not without surprises, starting with the horse that old Ruiz himself led into the courtyard of the Hacienda Montoya, a spirited animal with Spanish blood. He was white and shone like silver in the sun, with a long mane and waving tail. He must have Andalusian blood, thought Mano, but there was something else in there, maybe some American blood too, from one of those ranch horses that Papá had been trading for with John. What a horse! Short coupled, he carried his head on a natural level with his withers. His eyes were large, fine, and full of character. His small ears twitched and turned as he was led out.

"Eh, Ruiz," Mano said. "A word with you, please," drawing him aside as Buck watched, wide-eyed and wary. "This may be too much horse for her. And where is the side saddle?"

"Manolito," Ruiz replied, a twinkle in his eye as he spotted Carmen, clad in hat, tall boots, and tan riding clothes, pulling on gloves as she emerged from the hacienda, "this is the horse and saddle requested by la Señora Navarro."

"Oh?" Mano turned and smiled at the approaching Carmen. "I knew you liked to ride, my love."

"Sí, beloved. I do. All of my life." And she lifted herself into the saddle without assistance, allowing Ruiz only to adjust the stirrups. "Gracias, Señor Ruiz." With a smile at her companions, she urged her mount forward and through the gate and under the grand white stucco arches marking the hacienda.

"All right," Mano laughed while Buck whistled under his breath, shook his head, and grinned. Astride Rebel and Macadoo, the men caught up with Carmen and proceeded toward Casa Cueva three abreast, riding at a comfortable and slow lope which allowed for conversation even as they gazed at saguaros and sky.

"You sure ride good, Miss Carmen," Buck said in admiration.

"Gracias, Buck. I learned as a niña. My family had a rancho in the south of Sonora," she began. "What I have not told even you, Manolito, is that my family's rancho became part of the Rancho Navarro, when my husband's father purchased it after the death of my own father."

"Ah, no, you have not told me this." Mano liked this news. When they visited her rancho, it would seem less like he was moving into the territory of another man's family, if Carmen's people had owned the property previously.

"Yes, after Papá's death, the ranch suffered neglect. My brother, Carlos, for all his many failings, is possibly worse at ranching that at anything else," she smiled. "We sold it at more than a fair price, and this is when I met Antonio Navarro, whose family had recently acquired the vast rancho adjacent."

"Ah, and then you married. That makes sense."

"How long wuz you married until…I mean..." Buck faltered.

"Only three years. I married at 18, Buck. We had only three years, and much of that time he spent as a soldier while I lived at the ranch with his family. Late one spring, the yellow fever came, claiming his parents. I could do nothing. It happened so fast." Her voice caught. "Antonio returned for the funeral and to settle the estate, but he was soon called back to the military. Some campaign against the Apache. A few months later, word came that he had been killed." Her voice grew softer. "Then again it was only me."

Buck liked her even more after all this. Mano'd done all right.

"There you have it. Manolito already knew most of this, but as his best friend and partner, you should know this as well. I expect you may wish to use Rancho Navarro for your horses, perhaps. The rancho now belongs to me. It is managed by a man who has been as a father to me. He helped me when all was sadness and death."

"We shall see, my love," Mano said in a quiet voice. How good was his fortune. Like his sister, this young woman had much iron. Life was going to be most interesting. He smiled.

"Gentlemen," Carmen broke the solemn silence that had descended. "The double saguaro, the tall one ahead. How far away do you think it must be?"

"Oh, I guess a couple hunnert yards," Buck ventured.

"Shall we see who can get there first?" She laughed and, before they could answer, she touched her horse's sides and broke into a smooth fast gallop over the stretch of flat desert.

Buck's smile almost split his face, but he was not taking part in any horse race with those two lovebirds, oh no. Nobody makes a fifth wheel outta Uncle Buck, that's for dang shore! he thought. Mano, taken by surprise, spurred Macadoo into action and caught up to his fiancée within a few strides, although it would take effort to keep pace with her. He saw she was working hard to make her horse cover the ground. The race was on, and he crouched a little lower in his saddle, urging Macadoo even faster.

Carmen looked across at Mano, a smile on her face but steel in her eyes. She, too, crouched lower and moved her hands up her horse's neck, encouraging him to stretch and eat the ground, as his fine Andalusian forebears must have done. Macadoo's quickness was deceiving—this was what Mano liked about him. Like myself, he thought. Mac could seem lazy, as if the world could not touch him, but with just a brush of the spurs he would race over the roughest ground and never put a hoof wrong. I will beat her easily, Mano realized, smiling. But that thought generated a pang he did not expect. How disappointed she will be. Hombre, let her win this time. At once, he eased back on the reins...making no movement so coarse that she would notice. But Macadoo's ears twitched in wonder: why was his master asking him to slow down?

As they approached the double saguaro, Mano hunched forward even more while keeping Macadoo in check with subtlety. Carmen won and shouted with joy as she crossed the shadow thrown by the large cactus on the desert floor. Mano pulled up Macadoo and joined her joyous laughter with his own. He reached out his hand, which she clasped as she nudged her horse next to his. Their hearts raced and swelled with love and passion. They smiled into each other's eyes. He longed to kiss her and to hold her close. Instead, they let their horses stretch their necks down and walk, drawing breath and relieving stressed muscles, until Buck caught up with them.

Well, looka them two, Buck grinned. They's just made for each other, two peas in a pod! "Hey, hombre, she cheats jes like you!" he hooted. Toward the pueblo again they turned their horses. And laughing and smiling, the amigos soon rode under the broken adobe arch of Casa Cueva.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	5. Chapter 5

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Five: The Padre's Blessing**

The three friends tethered their horses at the livery and Buck took his leave of the couple with a tip of his hat to Carmen. "I'm jes gonna jaw with Vaquero a bit while y'all head on over to the padre's," Buck said. "Y'all know where to find me when you're done." That would be the cantina, Buck and Mano both knew, and Carmen surmised.

"Well, my love, shall we go?" Mano steered her toward the small adobe church which they entered. He removed his hat as they dipped their fingers in holy water, knelt, and crossed themselves. Sunlight filtered through chinks in the clay of the saguaro ribbed roof. A shaft of light shone on the niche containing the icon of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the humble church's cherished possession which the padre had blessed. Tiny jewels adorning the statue sparkled. Mano realized he felt a bit warm. He was not sure what to expect. Padre Sánchez had known him well and for a very long time. They saw the padre, clad in a cassock of rough brown cloth, kneeling at the altar in prayer, and waited in silence till he arose and turned to them.

"Welcome, children!" Padre Sánchez exclaimed with the broadest of smiles. "Come in, come in. We shall meet in my study." They followed him into a small back room containing a plank desk and a crude shelf upon which rested a dozen Bibles and books. "Please sit down," the padre said, gesturing to two wooden chairs as he settled behind the desk to look at them.

"Padre Sánchez, may I present my fiancée, Señora Carmen Vargas y Padilla de Navarro?" Mano opened.

"Señora, it is indeed a joy," the padre, a smile creasing his handsome bronze face, replied, inclining his head. His dark eyes twinkled with...was it merriment? Carmen did not know. She did know her fiancé's reputation and imagined the padre found the idea of this marriage humorous. Or perhaps something else made him smile.

"May I say, Señora Navarro..."

"Carmen, por favor," she interjected. The padre smiled and nodded.

"May I say, my daughter, that this day is one for which I have longed many a year."

Mano breathed hard. He shifted in his seat, his hand squeezing the brim of his hat. What would the padre say? Padre Sánchez grinned, enjoying Manolito's discomfort perhaps more than he should for the briefest of moments. Then he continued.

"Children, you wish to be married at the Rancho Montoya four Fridays hence? Bueno. We must use today to speak honestly of what this means. Marriage is a sacrament of the holy Church. It is an earthly representation of Christ and His bride, the Church. You are both free to marry, I am given to understand?"

"Yes Father. I have been seven years a widow," Carmen said, her tone matter of fact.

"And I, as you know Padre, have never been married."

"No, you have not, my son," the padre smiled. "And neither of you is a child any longer. You are adults and you know what you want. However," his gaze shifted to Manolito, "the holy scripture commands that the sacrament of marriage requires fidelity to only one. Are you both ready for this?"

"Yes, Padre," Carmen answered.

"Yes, Padre Sánchez." Mano affirmed, adding, "And yes, Padre, I do understand what this means."

"It is a solemn vow, my son. A vow to the Lord must not be taken lightly."

"Padre," Carmen interjected. "I am not concerned. And Manolo should know that I am not only a very good shot, but I own many, many guns." Her smile gave way to a light laugh.

"Oh you do, do you?" Mano responded with chuckle and raised eyebrows. Ay yi yi, chiquita, you need not worry. I believe I will never find you boring, he thought.

The padre smiled again and continued to speak. "Children will come. They will bring joy and sorrow, and they are a great responsibility. Are you prepared for this?"

They both nodded.

"And you must raise these children in the Church, yes?"

They both nodded.

"Manolito, may I ask when you made your last confession?"

Mano shifted again and grimaced. "Well, Padre, it has been awhile. Doing so might take some time," he admitted. Carmen smiled.

"We shall both come to confession, Padre, before we marry," Carmen said. "Perhaps Manolo will come two...or three times...to be sure he has not forgotten a sin." She laughed and so did the padre and even Mano cracked a smile, although he calculated that three times might not be enough. Well, he could only try.

"And your families. Have you all met?"

"Oh yes, Father," Mano spoke up. Carmen did not. It became her turn to look uncomfortable. "My love," Mano continued. "Your brother and sister-in-law, your nieces and nephews, I have met them all, no? And you have met Tío Domingo, Victoria, and Buck. Later you will meet John Cannon."

"A good man," the padre interrupted. "The Cannons are fine people, my daughter. You will be welcomed."

"Oh yes," Carmen replied. "Already I adore Victoria. Already she is like a sister to me. But…"

"But? But what?" Mano asked, puzzled. "What, my beloved?" He had not seen her flustered before. This was new.

"My love, I have not told you. There is...one other."

"Who? Your brother is your only sibling."

"Yes, but…"

"And Antonio's family are deceased?"

"Yes, there are no more. But…"

"But what?"

"My love, I told you my father had died. Consumption, the doctor said. My brother sold the rancho to the Navarros when he could not run it. However, I did not mention that...that my mother remains alive."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, my mother. Dolores Vargas y Padilla de Santos. My mother."

So he would have a mother-in-law. Mano swallowed hard. "Why have you not mentioned her before? Do you not want her here for your wedding? Should I have consulted her about our marriage rather than your brother?" The questions came in rapid succession. He gave her no time to answer.

"Calma, my beloved, calma," Carmen said. "No, you have behaved most properly. Carlos was the one to consult. Since the sale of our rancho and my marriage to Antonio, my mother has lived in Veracruz. She has remarried, a wealthy merchant who lavishes her with all that she desires. My mother is...cómo se dice...my mother is a force to contend with, mi amor. A force, that is what she is…" Carmen's voice trailed off.

"But the wedding?"

"Oh, Manolito, she will be at the wedding. There is no doubt. My brother has sent for her in Veracruz. I anticipate her arrival three days before we are wed. She would not come sooner," Carmen replied. "Nor would she miss it," she added with a grimace.

A mother-in-law? This was a new development. A force? What sort of force? The padre chuckled. Mano's throat caught. He looked at Carmen. "And you have not thought to mention this before, my love?" his voice carried a touch of sarcasm which he regretted an instant later. After all, who better than he to know how to deal with a demanding parent? This one sounded...well, at least she lived in Veracruz. A force, eh?

"My children, families can impose...ah, pressure...on a marriage," the padre resumed control of the conversation. "But they also bring a sense of continuity and place. You are marrying each other, but a marriage is also a union of two families."

"It will be fine, Padre," Mano interrupted. "And so shall we," he looked at Carmen. "And yes, Padre, if we are blessed with children, we shall raise them in the Church. And yes, Padre, I will make my confession before the wedding. It may take three sessions. And yes, Padre, Carmen will make hers as well."

"My children, all will be well. We have some papers to be filled out, technicalities all. Let us proceed to that, but first, may I pray for you and ask our Lord's blessing on your union...and all that it entails?"

"Oh please, Padre. Please do," Mano replied, taking Carmen's hand. And so the padre did as they bowed their heads.

"You could have told me about this mother, my dear," Mano said as they bid Padre Sánchez goodbye, dropping a few gold coins into the collection basket and strolling outside into the hot noontime sun.

"My love, I try not to think of her," Carmen replied. "And soon you shall know why. But let her not spoil our joy, Manolito. And remember, always, that she lives in Veracruz and we will not."

* * *

While Mano had considered Veracruz an ideal spot for a honeymoon, his thoughts now turned to Mexico City...or possibly that mountain villa in Cuernavaca which belonged to family friends. He would write the Ortegas. Carmen might like a piece of silver jewelry from Cuernavaca. Yes, of course she would…Cuernavaca it would be. They paused at the livery.

"My love, would you like me to take you inside to meet the alcalde of Casa Cueva, my old friend Vaquero, and to meet Teresa and our business partner, Roy Lauder? They have a new baby. And then I will go to fetch Buck, who, I suspect has found his way to the cantina."

"I would dearly love to meet these people, Manolito, but I, too, am thirsty," Carmen replied. "I shall accompany you first to the cantina."

"The cantina? You? A woman like...well, all right, chiquita," Mano replied with a laugh. "Shall we? But, mi corazón, please do not tell Victoria that Buck and I took you into the cantina, eh?" What a woman you have found, Manolito thought. Manito, what have you done to merit this? Chihuahua.

Even Buck looked surprised when Mano ushered Carmen through the cantina's entrance. His eyebrows shot up a notch higher when Mano ordered two tequilas for them both. Guess the little lady likes to drink. Buck shook his head. I hope Victoria don't find out we brung her in here. A stop at the livery for introductions to Roy, Teresa, Vaquero, and baby, and the sun overhead told them it was the hour to return to the Rancho Montoya. They would arrive in time to clean up before the afternoon meal.

Her face flushed with excitement, the thrill of the ride and the love she felt for this man beside her, Carmen talked almost nonstop on the way back, answering the questions that Buck peppered her with about her childhood, her father, growing up on the ranch. Mano listened in silence as Buck told her of the Cannons, his nephew Blue, even a little about the great War between the States, which Buck seldom mentioned at all. They rode between the bronze lions marking the entrance to the Rancho Montoya and underneath the arches into the hacienda courtyard before they knew it or were even ready. Mano took the reins of Carmen's horse as she dismounted.

"Buck and I will take the horses to the stables, my love. You go inside," he smiled and they gave each other a quick kiss while Buck looked on and grinned. Both men watched her walk away.

"Mano, you done real good, amigo. That lil gal'll make you a fine wife."

"Gracias. She is most wonderful, is she not? Our Father has blessed me and I do not deserve her."

"Yore daddy'd be right proud, too, I expect."

"Yes, Papá would be. I have discovered one thing about my love, however," Mano continued as they walked toward the stables.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Buck. It seems that in addition to the Doña Maria, I am going to have also...a mother-in-law," Mano sighed. "Ay Bendita, a mother-in-law. Carmen says she is a 'force.' Those are her words. 'A force.'"

"Well, good thing you foun' out now 'fore it's too late," Buck laughed.

"Compadre. You have seen Carmen and now you know her. It is already too late. Ay yi yi." Mano shrugged his shoulders while Buck grinned. The two chuckled and led their horses to Ruiz.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	6. Chapter 6

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Six: Crisis in Casa Cueva**

The wedding was now four weeks away. To Hermosillo for three days, Victoria and Maria whisked Carmen. Appointments with the dressmaker had been made. Carmen would wear ivory. Not white, for she had been married before...but a silken ivory gown with a matching bolero and an ivory lace mantilla. Initial fittings were scheduled. She could not escape.

Mano and Buck saw their chance.

"Nogales, eh Buck?" Mano asked his friend as the carriages carrying the ladies and their maids, with armed escorts on horseback, pulled out of the hacienda courtyard.

"Yessir. Nogales. We kin check out them horses Ruiz tol' us about an' mebbe a cantina or two." The two grinned and made for the stables. They did not see the stable master, but a boy fetched their horses and soon they were heading north at a gentle lope on Reb and Mac. Ruiz had tipped them off to the plight of an hidalgo fallen on hard times who might wish to sell some excellent horseflesh at a good price. But a few miles out from Hacienda Montoya, Mano had another thought.

"Buck, why do we not first go to Casa Cueva?"

"Why?"

"I might as well pay a visit to Padre Sanchez to begin my series of confessions," Mano answered.

"Yeah. You might oughta. That could take some time, Mano," Buck said with a smirk.

And so the two took a roundabout route to the tiny pueblo, entering the village from a back street rather than riding through the adobe's broken arch as they might have done on another day, thereby missing the panicked messenger who had just galloped straight to Casa Montoya from Casa Cueva in haste.

"I spect the good padre's in fer business today, Mano," Buck said as they rode into the pueblo. "But let's have us a drink first."

* * *

The cantina was quiet. Since it was early in the day, this was to be expected, but it didn't stop Mano and Buck from going inside and waking poor Chico, the bartender, from his accustomed siesta. Buck, as always, howled with glee as he patted Chico's round face to rouse him. Chico lurched awake and scurried to fetch his best bottle of tequila. For Don Manolo and the friend of Don Manolo, nothing was too much trouble...especially when Don Manolo remembered to pay.

As the amigos chuckled over something and nothing, enjoying their tequila, Vaquero burst through the cantina doorway, his face bathed in sweat. His breathing came hard and fast.

"Qué pasa compadre?" Mano asked, his thoughts jumping to Roy or Teresa. Was the baby ill?

"Vaquero, amigo, whut's up? Is it Roy? Teresa? Lil Ana?" Buck gave voice to Mano's fears.

"No, it is Ruiz!" Vaquero exclaimed. "I saw your horses and came to tell you."

"Ruiz! What has happened to him?" Mano's face darkened with concern.

"Come quickly and see."

They bounded from the table, knocking over their glasses of tequila as they rushed from the cantina, trailing Vaquero to his home beside the livery stable. Teresa sat beside a pallet on which Ruiz lay. His face was gray, even grayer than usual. His breathing was shallow. Blood soaked the front of his shirt, oozing through the cloths serving as bandages.

"Ruiz, what has happened? Qué pasó amigo?" Mano exclaimed.

"Ah, Don Manolo, I am sorry! I have lost your treasure and mine." Ruiz wheezed and coughed. His shirt became redder.

"What are you saying? What treasure?"

"Toronado."

"What about Toronado?"

"I was bringing the stallion here for Teresa and Roy to help me with some work," Ruiz wheezed. "I am old and do not have the agility of my youth. I thought the young people," he gasped for air. "I thought the young people would be able to carry out my methods to make Toronado...quieter and more tractable." He coughed and groaned.

"Of course, Ruiz, it is to your credit that you thought of them as your helpers. What I do not understand is how you could lose Toronado on the way here. It is only a short distance from the Rancho Montoya to Casa Cueva."

"Ah Manolito!" and the old man's eyes filled with tears. Mano patted his hand and soothed him, shushing him and letting Teresa lay a cold cloth on his forehead. Ruiz sank back into the pillow.

"I was almost here. Almost at the arch, when suddenly, a rifle shot. Toronado reared. I thought he had been hit and I dismounted immediately. I rode him because," Ruiz wheezed, "because he is easier to control from horseback. Once I was on the ground beside him there was another shot, but I did not hear that one, only felt the bullet as it bit deep into me."

"Enough, Ruiz, enough. Do not speak now. Rest. Get better. You can tell me more later." Mano's concern lent urgency to his words. Ruiz's breathing, shallow and gasping, alarmed him. His old friend could not die.

At that moment, the doctor entered. Vaquero had sent word to the hacienda and Don Domingo had called for the physician, who had ridden hard to see what he could do for his friend Ruiz. Dr. Ramirez ushered all of them out of the small back room, where the cot lay. He assured them he would do all he could, and with that they had to be content.

"Mano, whut you figger happened?" Buck's voice came deep and low, his distress palpable.

"I do not know compadre, but if I were to guess, comancheros. Maybe even our old friends Sánchez and Slim trying to pay me back for putting them in prison."

"You think they 'scaped and come round here deliberate?"

"Quién sabe? Possible. But there will be a trail, whoever it was."

"Well, ifn you's right we in real trouble, coz they wuz none too happy at our last meetin'. That's right too—they seen Toronado then, didn't they?"

"Sí compadre, they saw him and they realized his worth, I am sure."

"No need to wait on Señor Ruiz then. Let's get outta here and go find whutever hombres done this. Quick."

* * *

They said nothing further. One look at Roy told them he understood their worry. He helped them load supplies into their saddlebags, then glanced at his wife. Her eyes were moist as she picked up her cooing baby from the cradle, pressing the child to her breast. Roy slipped his arms around Teresa's waist while Vaquero stood in silence as Mano and Buck nodded and walked out the door to their mounts. The dust left by their horses' hooves was all that was visible in Casa Cueva as the two men proceeded at a fast lope in the direction of the hills. A long hour later, having slowed their horses to a walk once away from the village, Mano noticed tracks in some dirt beside a wiry ocotillo bush. "Buck!" he called "Over here!"

"Whatcha got, Mano?" Buck, still astride Rebel, called. He peered at the spot that Mano, now down on the ground, knelt to pore over.

"Two horses with riders and a third shod, but not being ridden. This must be them, amigo."

"Shore sounds like it. You lookin' a little puzzled though. What's the problem?"

"Well, for one thing, they are going in the wrong direction, and for another, they are not in any hurry."

"What wrong direction? Whut do you mean?"

"I would expect comancheros to take the horse either north over the border or into the hills to their hideout until things got quieter and they could bring him out to sell in one of the many horse markets here in Sonora."

"Yeah, sounds about right," Buck agreed.

"But they have turned. Not to the hills. Not north. Instead, southwest and down," Mano said. "They appear to be heading toward the main trail to Mexico City, amigo! Along the coast."

"Whut?!"

"Exactamente! Not the trail to be taken by any comanchero and certainly not at the speed they are going. I judge them to be traveling at a walk or jog at best."

"You don't think they's doing this jus' so they kin double back later?"

"No. It is as if they do not expect anyone to follow, or as if they do not care if anyone does follow. I think we must be very careful compadre, very careful indeed."

Without any more talking Mano remounted and they set off along the well-marked trail left by the robbers, whoever they were. After a while, they walked their horses, since it was plain their quarry was in no hurry and the light was fading.

"We need to make camp for tonight, Buck, and I think we had better make it a cold camp."

"Yeah. Shoot, Mano, I ain't gonna be worth anythin' without my coffee."

"I know, hombre. Tomorrow morning, once it is light, we can build a very small fire, assuming we are downwind of them. If our 'friends' get wind of us, literally, they could well take advantage."

"Yup. I guess yore right," Buck groused but agreed.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	7. Chapter 7

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Seven: Cajeme**

The overnight camp was hard: only tepid water from their canteens to drink, little to eat since they must ration provisions, no fire to keep them warm. When darkness fell, they both remained awake, but in no mood to discuss anything. Dawn crept slowly over the horizon but Mano insisted they wait until the sun was at least up a little into the sky before lighting a tiny fire so that they could both drink something hot. They chewed beef jerky and cold tortillas, good food compared to what they might have been left with, had they rushed out of Casa Cueva with nothing.

While they sipped coffee, Mano speculated on the men they were following. "I think they must know my family because otherwise that was a rash and foolish thing to do, stealing a horse as obviously good looking and expensive as Toronado."

"Except, mebbe they seen it was a heckuva horse and jes thought, let's steal that and sell him for a lot of money."

"Yes, but then why go toward Mexico City? Hermosillo is closer and there is a good market for horses there. No, there is purpose in this theft."

"Well, do you reckon they wuz trying to get at you? I mean, somethin' personal?"

"How would they know Toronado was connected to me? They must have watched him being ridden out of Casa Montoya, and then they struck when they were far enough away to be sure no one from the hacienda could come out to give aid."

"They makin' this horse theft real personal though, Mano, if they wuz watchin' your rancho. They musta know'd that horse was important."

"Sí, estoy de acuerdo. But what is their purpose? They seem to have no intention of selling him and yet they continue on this road leading to Mexico City. It is curious and I cannot see whom they wish to hurt, but they must think this would hurt someone. I do not know."

"Well, amigo, sittin' ain't gonna get it done. Let's saddle up an' head on out."

* * *

Just before noon, they crested a rise and saw, down in the draw below, two men leading, or at least trying to lead, a shining black horse. "Ay, Toronado!" Mano exclaimed in a soft voice, edged with concern.

"Well, they shore don't look like no comancheros to me. Course I may be wrong," Buck observed.

"Buck, they are certainly the thieves, because even you cannot fail to recognize the finest stallion in the entire world. Magnifico!"

"Well, he's purely a miracle worker, but in the whole world? I dunno, Mano, he's got his daddy's reputation to beat first."

"Es verdad! But this he will do. Look at him, compadre: he is fighting them and making their lives difficult. Ay, what a horse!"

The men struggled to control the stallion and even at this distance could be seen swatting at him with short riding whips, which he dodged with nimble moves. They tried to draw him alongside one of their horses, but he would have none of it. Mano judged it time they caught up with these muchachos. We shall show you fools how to treat such a noble creature, he thought. Buck had already reached a similar conclusion.

"Mano, let's us split up," Buck whispered. "Come at 'em from opposite directions. You circle on up ahead of 'em, down the other side of this ridge here. I'll come up behind 'em. I'll take it slow to give you time an' you do the same." Mano nodded in agreement at the whispered directions and turned Macadoo back up over the ridge.

Buck dismounted and descended at a slow, quiet pace, using as cover every piece of rock or scrub he could find. Once he reached the bottom of the draw, he found himself some distance behind the thieves. He walked Rebel, staying in the scrub or loose sand so the noise of the horse's hooves would not alert those in front. Up ahead Mano could hear the men now cursing in Spanish and calling for all kinds of evil to befall his excellent Toronado. He drew his pistola and urged Macadoo into a trot, which brought him in front of the thieves.

As he neared them, they spied him and started to draw their weapons. "Uh uh," Mano called out. "Señores se caen sus armas… por favor! En seguida!" The men turned round and saw Buck behind, now mounted and approaching, pistol drawn, eyes cold. Caught between two guns, they had no choice but to comply.

"Ah señores, sí por supuesto!" the older thief replied with a grimace. Using only a finger and thumb, he plucked his gun from its holster and dropped the weapon to the ground. His companion hesitated, until Buck cocked his pistol. Then the second man surrendered his firearm as well.

"Gracias" Buck mumbled, dismounting while Mano kept the men covered. Buck gathered up the men's guns and stowed them in his saddle bag.

"Abajo!" Mano gestured with his pistola for the men to get down.

"Shall we have us a little talk, gentlemen?" Buck, eyes fierce and mouth close to a sneer, asked as he strode to the two and seized the reins of Toronado while Mano, unblinking, kept his pistol aimed at the hombres. Somethin' mighty odd about these two, Buck figured. Wearin' some kinda uniform instead of reg'lar clothes. I wonder to whose army you belong? Mano thought.

"Aw right, gents let's do us some straight talking. You boys savvy English?" Buck asked, unsmiling. The older nodded yes and Buck gestured for the men to begin. The older shrugged his shoulders and started to speak.

"We are soldiers in the employ of Generalísimo Jose Casados," he said.

"Casados?!" Mano exclaimed "What has he to do with the theft of a horse?"

The younger soldier barked, "Do not say any more, Felipe!"

"Felipe," Mano said, "you will tell me what I wish to know. What has General Casados to do with this theft?" As he spoke, Mano cocked his pistola and pointed it at a very delicate portion of Felipe's anatomy. Sweat broke out on the old man's brow and he gulped for air.

"Señor," Felipe swallowed and continued. "I do not know the whole story, but General Casados was very angry with a man who owed him much money. Gambling debts, I believe. This man came to see the general some weeks ago and told him a story about another man with whom the general had long been angry. This story seemed to amuse the general, because he laughed very loudly. We could hear this outside the door."

"Ah, I see. So the man who came to see the general, you saw him?" Mano asked.

"Sí, señor"

Mano rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek, thinking. "And his appearance, could you describe it?" he asked, again pointing his gun at Felipe, just below the man's waist.

"Sí. He was about the same height as I, not tall, but quite a large hombre, el gordo...if you know what I mean. He was going bald, but kept a few strands of hair pulled across the top of his head."

"Sounds like one ugly hombre," Buck began. "Any idea who it could be, Mano?"

"Shhh! Momento," Mano interrupted Buck, shaking his head. "Felipe, why were you taking the horse down to Mexico City?"

"Oh no, señor, we were not trying to do that. El General said that we should take the horse to Cajeme, where he has a contact in a small slaughterhouse and the horse could then easily be disposed of. He did not want the money for him, but he said we should go slowly. We were to kill anyone who followed. We shot the man who rode this stallion and we did not think others would learn of the theft for some time."

"Sí, Felipe, it is all your fault, bruto! I told you we should have been checking our back trail." The younger soldier spat, disgusted.

"Callate, Raúl," Felipe responded. "You know that horse made our lives impossible. I almost shot it myself. We could not check both the trail and control him."

Mano's eyes narrowed. "Felipe, you and your friend will have to be tied up for a while," he said.

"No, we will not submit to this!" the younger one shouted, although Buck noticed the kid was careful not to move much, just squirmed a little.

"Be quiet, Raúl. They are pointing guns at us. Do you think we have a choice?" Felipe demanded. Raúl scowled but said nothing further.

"Very wise, Felipe, very wise. Live to steal horses another day, eh? Now you will both oblige us by sitting on the ground," Mano said, his voice cool but with an edge.

Raúl snarled and jerked his head back, attempting a little resistance to save face, but with two loaded pistols trained on him, he could do nothing, so he joined his companion on the ground. With Mano covering them, Buck looped ropes about their wrists and ankles, tying secure knots which he tested by yanking. Their enemies bound, Mano and Buck drew back a little, under the guise of soothing Toronado.

"Buck, it would seem that some people I know may have an excellent reason for stealing the stallion."

"Who?"

"Hombre, you will not believe this, but the man Felipe described sounds much like the brother of my Carmen, Don Carlos de Vargas."

"Whut? You gotta be kiddin'."

"I wish I were, Buck. Of course, there are many rotund balding men in Mexico City...it is possible that it was another, but…"

"But how many fat bald men is interested in Montoya business? My daddy taught me not to believe in coincidences, Mano," Buck observed.

"Exactly, Buck. We must confirm my suspicions," Mano said, his tone thoughtful.

"I don't know what we gonna do with these two fools," Buck said. "They's tied purty tight an' they ain't going nowhere, but we can't jus leave 'em here."

"Sí. Much as I would like to," Mano agreed. "Buck, I have an idea. Cajeme is, oh, twenty miles from here. The land is flat on the way, an easy trip. And there is a jail. We cannot manage Toronado and these, eh, gentlemen by ourselves. If I am not mistaken, the son of an old friend of my father may still be jefe of the rurales there. Perhaps we can prevail upon him to detain our guests for us, at least till we return."

"Return? Return from where?"

"From Mexico City, hombre! We must discover the truth about the involvement of General Casados and my future brother-in-law. We have no choice. We must know what is behind all this."

"You mean we's goin' after Casados? That hombre you an' yore uncle had a run in with? Are you plumb loco? I thought you wanted to be alive to marry that little gal."

"I do, Buck, I do. But unless this matter is settled, it will be safe for me to marry no one. Come on, compadre!"

"What are we gonna do with Toronado? We cain't jes head on into Mexico City with 'im."

"I have an idea about Toronado as well, but, ah, what does Big John say, one potato at a time, eh?"

"Aw right, but what if your friend ain't in Caha...Cahay—whatever you said—no more?"

"Hmm. Then two choices remain," Mano spoke louder so that the two trussed up thieves would hear. "We can leave them in the desert without boots or water, but alive. Or we can shoot them and let the coyotes consume their remains. Which we may have to do anyway if they give us any trouble as we go to Cajeme. Entendéis, hombres?"

Felipe said nothing, Raúl sneered. But they complied as Buck loosed the ropes securing their ankles and ordered them to stand up and mount up. Mano and he rode behind them, pistols pointed at their backs. "You boys better take care," Buck warned them. "I don't miss what I shoot at."

Mano also wound the rope attached to Toronado a few times around his saddle horn to lead the horse. The stallion, now around familiar horses and men, calmed a bit and they started for Cajeme. Along the path, two Yaquis, one old man and a young boy on foot, leading a donkey laden with blankets and branches, paused to stare at them as they passed and continued watching them in stoic silence long down the trail. It was unnerving, but Mano knew Yaquis liked to intimidate, yet rarely attacked without the advantage of numbers.

* * *

Soon the bustling city of Cajeme appeared before them, boasting white buildings, numerous businesses, an opera house, and many churches. A large market featuring colorful stalls, chickens, and a variety of vendors offering wares filled the streets off the central avenue. Beyond the wash of gaudy primary color, Mano and Buck spied the office of the rurales, with the jail attached, down one such side street. Mano avoided most rurales, but it would not do for a gringo like Buck to approach them, and perhaps the jefe was, in fact, his old friend. One could hope, and in this case, his hopes were rewarded.

"Mano!" the jefe exclaimed when he saw him.

It was indeed Captain Salvador Estrello who served as jefe of the rurales in Cajeme. His father had been Don Sebastian's friend as a boy in Hermosillo, where Estrello had also grown up. He remembered Manolito from his family's visits to the Rancho Montoya, although it had been many years. Though glad to see an old friend, Estrello frowned at the two men Mano brought with him at gunpoint into the jail. Peering out the dusty window, Estrello also wondered just who was that gringo outside with that magnificent stallion.

"Hola, Salvador," Mano opened. "I have brought you some guests. Will you please lock them up while I explain?" Estrello, frowning still, shoved the two prisoners into a cell as Mano mentioned who they were and for whom they worked.

"These are the men of Casados?" Estrello exclaimed as he clanged shut the cell door and secured the lock. "Manolito, amigo, my jail is for the drunk and disorderly, cattle rustlers, horse thieves...not soldiers in the private army of Casados. When he discovers what I have done…"

"Salvador, these _are_ horse thieves and you can see what they stole outside, which we have recovered," Mano began, shifting his voice to add in a sober tone, "They also shot Valencio Ruiz."

"Ruiz! No!" Estrello well remembered the kind gentleman who had taught him to ride as a niño. "The stable master of Don Sebastian?"

"Sí. I just need you to keep them for a few days. If Ruiz dies, I shall retrieve them and take them to Casa Cueva, where they will stand trial for murder and most certainly hang...if I do not shorten the course of justice by killing them myself." Mano said this so the prisoners would hear.

"And what if Ruiz lives?"

"If Ruiz lives, let them go. But please wait one week. We shall press no charges. The incident will be," Mano glanced at the thieves, "forgotten."

"All right, amigo. For Ruiz I will do this."

"Gracias, amigo," Mano clapped his hand on Estrello's shoulder. Lowering his voice, he added, "Walk with me outside por favor, for just a moment. Act as though you are telling me adiós."

This would be no act, thought Estrello, hoping Mano would indeed go. But making a pretense of bidding an old friend farewell, he followed Manolito outside. With the door shut behind them, Mano spoke to the jefe in a low voice. "Salvador, do not keep these men a week. Let them go in, oh, four or five days. I will hunt them down myself if Ruiz dies. We just need them out of the way while we go to pay General Casados a visit."

"Casados! Are you loco, Mano?"

"That's what I been askin' him, Señor Jefe," Buck observed as he walked up. Mano glanced at both men, realizing he had better make introductions.

"Perdoname, Salvador, may I present my friend Buck Cannon?" Estrello and Buck nodded at each other. "Now to our present business," Mano resumed. "If you keep them five days, you can say that you have received word that Ruiz is dying and you do not wish to be responsible for their deaths as well. You are letting them go. I suggest you not return their guns. Make it a little tough on them, eh? We will not have time to come back for them, but I want them to think that we would. This way, they will be in your debt and you should experience no retribution."

"And what of you?"

"Well, hombre," Mano sighed. "I see things one of two ways. If we succeed in our dealings with Casados, these two will have no significance. Casados may even be looking to kill them himself." He put his hands on his hips, looked out on the street, and exhaled with vigor.

"And if you don't?"

"The way I see it, Señor Estrello, if we ain't successful with Casados, we prob'ly gonna be dead anyway," Buck said.

"Es verdad," Mano shrugged and laughed. "Either way, hombre…"

"One thing I do not understand. Why won't you have time to come back for these two?"

At this Mano grinned and put his hand on Estrello's shoulder, giving him a light friendly shove. "Have you not heard, Salvador? I am getting married, amigo!"

Estrello shook his head in disbelief but extended his hand, which Mano shook. "Vaya con Dios, amigo," Estrello said. Still shaking his head, incredulous, he walked back in into the jail. He would check on his prisoners and take their horses to the livery. Perhaps by then, Mano and his friend would be gone.

"C'mon, lover boy. Let's get outta here while the gettin's good," Buck said. "Whoa, boy," he spoke to Toronado, rubbing and patting the horse's mane. "Agin, I ask you, Mano, what we gonna do with Toronado?"

"I believe we shall make an appearance at the rancho of my beloved, Buck. I do not know what else to do. It is not far, a little southwest of here, maybe ten miles."

Buck shrugged, shook his head and mounted up. They set out at an easy jog, Toronado in tow.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	8. Chapter 8

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Eight: Rancho Navarro  
**

The Rancho Navarro was nestled on broad, flat, grassy acreage flanked by foothills on the east and closer to the coast than Cajeme. A stream, its banks lined with cottonwoods and mesquite, bubbled through the middle of the property. A white stucco hacienda gleamed in the sunlight as Buck and Mano, leading Toronado, approached its ornate wrought iron gates, each embellished with the scrolled initial _N_ in the middle. Navarro, thought Buck. Well, at least we is in the right place.

The entire compound was surrounded by a high adobe wall, covered with stucco and surrounding the hacienda and its courtyards. A dozen or so humble adobes were nestled outside the compound. Homes to the peóns who worked the land or worked at the ranch house, the men thought. At the gate was a single armed man, a magazine full of cartridges draped over his torso and a rifle pointed at their chests.

"Halto, señores!" the man cried as they drew near the gate.

The two men stopped. Toronado's nostrils flared and his eyes showed white as he shook his head and pranced, unsettled. "Calma," Mano said in a low, sing-song voice. Buck's eyes bored into the guard.

"Who are you?" the guard demanded.

"Señor, we are friends of the owner of Rancho Navarro. We have business with the foreman of the rancho," Mano replied.

"Señor Delgado?"

"Sí, Señor Delgado. I am Manolo Montoya and this is my friend, Señor Buck Cannon. We have ridden long from Casa Cueva and our business is urgent."

"Gentlemen, you will remove your gun belts and give them to me. Then you may enter." Mano and Buck glanced at each other. Buck raised his eyebrows and shook his head but they both complied. The gate squeaked open and two armed guards escorted them inside the compound.

In back were stables and corrals. Mebbe fifteen vaqueros, Buck figured. Out buildings and a barn were visible. The whole seemed a smaller version of the Hacienda Montoya. As they dismounted, two stable hands scurried to them. "Your horses, señores?" the older one, in his late teens, asked. Mano nodded, noticing the younger man's eyes gleaming at the sight of Toronado.

"Gracias. They require food and water. Be careful with this one, eh?" Mano said, smiling, indicating the black stallion.

"Oh, sí señor! A fine animal!" the young man exclaimed as the two boys seized the reins and made for the stables.

No horses, no guns, we in for it now, Buck figured.

* * *

"This way, señores," another armed man, his pistol drawn but not cocked, said as he motioned them inside a smaller gate and through sturdy wooden doors into the hacienda itself. Inside they glimpsed what appeared to be a substantial living area filled with grand furnishings: sofas and chairs, all covered with cloths to keep away the dust. Large paintings were also draped, the entire room shrouded in white. They were whisked down a hallway to an office at the end where the guard knocked on a door.

"Señor Delgado? Some men to see you," he called.

"Adelante," came the reply and the guard opened the door to usher them in, stopping to stand in the doorway and watch, his pistol still drawn.

Delgado, a middle-aged moustached man with grizzled brows, a full head of gray hair, and the attire of an hidalgo, looked up from behind a large desk piled high with papers, books, and ledgers. After sizing them up for a few seconds, he stood. "I do not believe that I know you," Delgado opened and introductions ensued. As Manolito explained that he was a friend of la Señora Carmen, Delgado's eyes narrowed and he grunted his acknowledgment, giving him another appraising glance.

"You are Montoya, the one she is to marry?" Delgado barked.

"Sí," Mano replied. Delgado stared at him a moment. grunted again, then caught the eye of the guard at the door, gesturing to the man with a sideways nod of his head.

"Leave us, Luis. It will be fine."

"Muy bien, patrón."

Then, turning to Buck and Mano, Delgado indicated two chairs. "Please take a seat. Would you care for a drink?"

"Yessir, we shore would," Buck spoke first as Mano, relaxed for a moment, exhaled and smiled.

"Gracias," Mano said as Delgado poured three drinks, not of tequila, but of whiskey. The men settled in leather chairs, sipped whiskey, and said nothing for a moment or so, waiting, assessing one another.

"Señor," Delgado opened at last, looking at Mano. "La Señora Carmen has written me of you. I am honored. To what do we owe this unexpected visit? I am given to understand that your marriage is to occur only a few weeks from now."

"Sí, Señor Delgado. Only urgent business would take me from la señora at this time," Mano began. "We have matters of some importance in Mexico City."

"Oh?"

Buck took another swallow of his drink, wishing Mano would just get on with it, but these Mexicans always took their time.

"Yes. I know la señora trusts you completely, so allow me to tell you the whole story…" and Mano commenced with a description of Toronado's abduction and the shooting of Ruiz.

"So you are pursuing the animal?"

"No, we have found him. The thieves are in custody in Cajeme. We have brought the horse here."

"Oh?" Delgado's eyes lit up and he grinned, discarding his gruffness for a moment as would any good horseman upon hearing of the presence of such a fine creature. Let us go see this animal, he thought, but he said nothing more.

"Sí, Señor Delgado. Our business in Mexico City is not without risk. We must discover who is behind the theft of the horse because this person also threatens my family." Mano paused, then added. "We will be speaking with General Jose Casados."

"Casados?" Delgado's eyes widened.

"Tha's the reaction we been gettin', señor. But we just need to see him," Buck added.

"Casados," Delgado shook his head. "Son, there is danger in this."

"Yes, I have had dealings with him before, with my uncle, Don Domingo de Montoya."

Delgado nodded. "What can we do for you at the Rancho Navarro, señor?"

"Simply keep Toronado safe for us," Mano replied. "Take care of him. With any luck, Señor Cannon and I should return within two weeks, three at the most." They would have to, Mano thought, if he was to make it back to Rancho Montoya the week of his wedding.

"And if you are not back here within three weeks?"

Mano sighed. "If we do not return, you can probably assume we are dead. In that case, Delgado, the horse will become the property of Señora Carmen, entiendes?" Delgado nodded. "I shall write something to that effect, if you have pen and paper, por favor," Mano added.

Delgado fetched these for the younger man, who wrote several lines in a neat, confident hand, pausing to chew on his lower lip and take a breath before adding a personal note at the end. He read it again, then signed and folded the letter, handing it to Delgado, who placed it in a desk drawer. "My last will and testament," Manolito chuckled. "Please see that she gets it," he added, his tone more serious.

"You may need it, señor," Delgado added with a nod of his head. They rose.

Delgado insisted they eat before beginning their journey. The afternoon meal concluded with a quick tour of the grounds and stables. Mano watched the man's eyes as he saw Toronado and knew the stallion would be safe. Ay Bendita, may it be the same with us, he thought, as they prepared to take their leave.

"Señor Montoya, a word," Delgado said as Buck and Mano buckled on their gun belts and prepared to mount their horses. "You should know that la señora is as a daughter to me. When she wrote of your upcoming marriage, I did not know what to think. Now, señor, I am pleased."

"Gracias." Mano nodded and shook his hand.

"Buena suerte," Delgado said to them both. He watched as they rode out, thinking to himself, I hope she does not become a widow again...and this time before the marriage. He did not smile.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	9. Chapter 9

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Nine: The** _ **Esmeralda**_

"I do not know about this, Buck," Manolito complained as they urged their mounts toward Guaymas on the coast.

"But Mano, Señor Delgado said it's the quickest way to git to Mexico City."

"I know but...I do not like boats. Papá took us on a steamer to Europe. The voyage took a month. I was sick as a dog every day."

"But jes a day or so on the steamer an' we'll be...where'd he say we'll be?"

"Puerto Vallarta, Buck."

"Yeah. That's it."

"And it is still 500 miles to Mexico City, many days on a stage, hombre!"

"Yup, but the stage keeps moving, changin' teams an' men. We gonna cut a lotta days off this way. We're saving at least 700 miles, amigo. Mebbe we'll even get you back in time fer yore an' Miss Carmen's weddin'!"

And Manolito knew Buck was right.

"Besides, Mano, my backside an yours won't be worth nothin' if all we do is ride for three weeks!"

Mano looked sideways at his friend, but nodded his agreement.

* * *

They stabled their horses at the livery in Guaymas, paying for two weeks in advance and leaving instructions, should they not return, that their horses were to be taken to the Rancho Navarro. "Delgado there will know what to do with them," Mano told the stable hand.

His heart was heavy as they booked passage in the steamship office: two tickets to Puerto Vallarta with return. Might as well be optimistic and assume we _shall_ return, Mano laughed to himself as he paid. They were lucky. The steamer _Esmeralda_ was in port and scheduled to weigh anchor at eight that evening. They were free to board now if they wished. How fortunate for us, Mano mused with cynicism. Boats held no appeal and even richly fitted vessels with dining rooms and roulette tables could remain in the harbor for all he cared. Not so with Buck.

"Dang!" Buck cried as they walked along the gangplank to board. "This here's the fanciest boat I've ever seen, Mano...an' that includes a ironclad or two an' a coupla paddle wheelers on the Mississippi, amigo! C'mon, let's give her a look!" With that, he dragged Mano into the main level of the _Esmeralda_ , an enormous paddle wheel steamer with three decks. Polished brass fittings shone; fine wooden floorings gleamed, buffed to a high luster. "Look heah...here's the dining room!" Buck exclaimed. He made sure their names were down for dinner and for any other meals to which their tickets entitled them. The maitre d' looked at the two men, unshaven and dusty from the trail, and his eyes narrowed. He wrote their names next to a table located near the back of the room. Peasants, he thought, dismissing them as people of no importance unlikely to leave a tip. Mano noticed his disdain but felt no desire to correct him. Let him think I am nothing, he thought. That is what I feel like.

"Buck, I feel sick, amigo. I am going to our cabin to lie down."

"Whut? We ain't even pulled out yet, Mano. We ain't even got going!"

"To me, the boat is moving already, hombre, and I need to lie down in a darkened room. Wake me when we get there."

"Git where?

"Puerto Vallarta, amigo."

"But that's a day n' a half from now!"

"Sí."

Mano repaired to their cabin and collapsed in his berth, and soon the steamer pulled out of the port to head down the coast. Buck, unlike his friend, enjoyed all the delights a modern paddle steamer had to offer: eating, drinking, even dancing with lovely señoritas. Mano don't know whut he's missin', he thought.

"Mano! Hey, Mano?!" he shook his friend around midnight.

"What?"

"C'mon, Mano...they's drinkin' an' dancin' an' poker!"

"Leave me alone, hombre." Mano propped himself up and looked Buck in the face. "Get out, por favor."

"Yeah, you do look kinda green, amigo. I see ya later."

Mano sank back into the sheets and fell asleep. Whether or not Buck ever came to bed that night, he never knew. Nor did he care.

* * *

The _Esmeralda_ pulled into Puerto Vallarta as dawn broke, a day and a half after their departure from Guaymas. Mano had managed to shave and clean himself up a little, but otherwise his only memories of the voyage were of watching the ceiling of the cabin, refusing all offers of food, and encouraging Buck to leave him alone for the rest of his life, which he did not think would be very long.

"You shore missed a good time, Mano," Buck chortled as they stepped ashore at Puerto Vallarta. "Gals an' drinkin' an' lotsa cards. I even won a little, hombre!"

"Good, we will probably need it," Mano replied. "And as for the girls, you know I now have only one who concerns me. As for poker, I need a clear head for that."

"Yeah, you do. But not Uncle Buck! I got me two hunnert dollars, amigo!"

"Bueno. I am happy for you."

"Yep, an' we gonna git more of the same when we catch the boat back."

Ay yi yi, Mano thought, wincing. We have to go back on that steamer. If Casados shoots me, at least one good thing will come of it. That will have been my last voyage. Eh, he no longer felt seasick, that was something. He slit his eyes at Buck and nodded to the stagecoach station, located up the street from the port. Again they were lucky. The stage was due to pull out in one hour, and there was room.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	10. Chapter 10

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Ten: Lola's Place**

The sea air gave way to simmering desert heat and then tropical steaminess as the stagecoach bumped and jostled along the road from Puerto Vallarta to La Ciudad de Mexico. Four, five days passed...days of constant stopping to change drivers and horses, to eat and to wash at sundry stations. Mano grew impatient; Buck did not. Cain't remember ever bein' in a hurry for a fight like this, he mused. Jes as soon take our time, loco as we is.

At last one morning the coach descended into the Valley of Mexico. "You know it is also known as the Valley of the Damned," Mano said, resting, not bothering to open his eyes to look. He had seen this sight many times before. But Buck poked his head out of the coach windows and stared. The gleaming white buildings of the capital, shrouded in mist, loomed ahead, materializing before him. By noon that day they found themselves rumbling over marshlands and lakes across the long bricked causeway that opened off the western road, toward the San Cosme Gate leading into the city.

"Ain't never seen nuthin' like this, Mano," Buck observed, gazing out over the marshes at cypress trees and stretches of water, an unearthly mystical sight so unlike the desert. The causeway itself was a double roadway on the side of a great aqueduct resting upon massive pillars and open stone arches. "I remember hearin' 'bout it from some boys who fought in the Mexican War with ol' Gen'ral Scott, but this do beat all."

* * *

They rode through the lofty arches crowning the San Cosme Gate to the coach station at the center of the city, where they debarked. Mano spoke Spanish to a soldier on a street corner who smiled and replied, pointing to something in the distance. It looked like he was givin' directions, Buck thought. Buck kept silent, wary, yet also looked around him at the gleaming buildings, statues, hotels, plazas, and churches. He hadn't really been in that many cities, nor had he ever cared to be. So many people, rushin' here an' there, he thought. Too many.

"What'd that soldier boy have to say, compadre?" Buck asked when Mano returned, grinning and dodging a few children running ahead of their governess and a businessman hurrying the other way.

"Oh, I asked him how to get somewhere, and he told me," Mano replied. "We must find a carriage, amigo, to take us to, ah, a certain area of town." To Buck's puzzled look, he added, "I told him I was on business. Do not worry!"

They walked down the block and Mano hailed a hansom cab, giving the driver an address. Buck only heard the words, "Zona Rosa," but he saw the driver's leer and he looked at his compadre.

"I thought you said we was seeing Casados," he whispered as they climbed into the carriage.

"Sí, but first we need to see a friend. We must go see Lola."

* * *

The cab stopped in front of what looked to Buck like a fancy storefront with painted windows. A sign suspended on chains over the boardwalk read, in elaborate script: Lola's. The batwing doors at the entrance were gilded, and bright polished brass gaslights adorned the facade.

Lola's proved to be an elegant bordello in the midst of La Zona Rosa Dos, a red-light district of Mexico City. As they strode through the batwing doors, it seemed to Buck as if they had entered just another saloon, but after Mano spoke a few words to the bartender who then pulled a cord on the wall, a young woman appeared. Guapa, thought Mano and winked at her, speaking to her in Spanish. Buck heard the words "Lola" and "amigos," but Mano spoke too fast for him to follow.

"Señores, ven conmigo, por favor," the woman said, inclining her head.

Buck pulled off his hat and rasped to Mano, "What we doin' here?" He started to ask what kind of place this was, but as they followed the woman, pushing through velvet curtains into a huge salon filled with plush couches, gilded tables and chairs, crystal chandeliers, and a sea of velvet draperies, he no longer needed to question. Men sat in booths and at tables, talking and drinking with women clad in low cut satin gowns topped by feathers and finery, while other women milled about, eyeing them. A spiral staircase leading to rooms upstairs dominated the center of salón. Soft music from a grand piano in the corner greeted their ears.

"Mano, this here is a fancy…"

"Yes, Buck, it is. And we have a friend here."

"But Mano, yore engaged…"

Just then a throaty voice, deep and sensual, sounded from a couch in the middle of the room.

"The nephew of Domingo!" the voice proclaimed, and Buck's eyes and ears followed it to a buxom woman in her fifties resting upon a red and cream velvet couch. Yellow hair was piled high atop her head and her plump face, still pretty, featured crimson cheeks and vivid blue eyes outlined in black. Her lips, a bright red, matched both her gown and the couch. A rich white fur stole was draped across her shoulders but this did not conceal the neckline of her dress which plunged very low. A large bejeweled necklace sparkled at her throat, its end lost in her ample cleavage. She carried her surplus flesh well and with grace. She smiled at Manolito as she lounged on the sofa, sitting up as he approached.

"Cómo estás, Lola?" Mano asked with a smile and a slight bow, removing his hat as he did so.

"Hola! It is Manolito, is it not? I did not know you at first under all of those whiskers!" And all of that grime, she thought, remembering the first time she had met him, when he had been impeccably groomed.

Reading her mind, Mano said, "Forgive our appearance, Lola. My friend, Buck Cannon, and I have been long on our journey and we could not wait even one minute more before coming to see you," his tone friendly and flirtatious.

She nodded and laughed. "You sound like Domingo. And how is he, your uncle?"

"Oh, he is fine, gracias. He is in Sonora at present. He now runs the rancho of my late father."

"So I had heard, Manolito. Sit down, you and your friend. You are making me nervous standing."

Buck and Mano complied, Mano sitting opposite Lola on the sofa, Buck sinking into a nearby upholstered and gilded chair. Young women sailed by to take their hats and to bring them drinks.

"Thank you," Buck said, while Mano settled back in the sofa and eyed Lola until again she spoke.

"It is good to see you, Manolito. And I am glad to learn that you are well and to hear that it goes well with Domingo." Lola paused a second before adding with a throaty laugh, "That Domingo. As I have told you before, your uncle, he has done me much wrong. But oh, I do still like that man!" She took a drink. "Do you know, Manolito, that he has been to see me twice since your visit?"

"Oh?" this was news to Mano.

"Yes. And he has repaid what he owes me, thanks, no doubt, to the proceeds left to him by your father."

"No doubt. Well, I am glad, Lola."

"I hear also you are to be married?"

"Er, yes, but how..."

"News travels fast in the city, Manolito, especially where a nephew of Domingo is concerned. All are surprised that he stays at that ranch."

"So are we, Lola," Mano admitted. "So are we."

Buck watched all this in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He nodded at the girls who wafted by, brushing against him to tease him, and he sipped his whiskey without speaking.

"The woman you are to marry. Carmen Navarro. I like her," Lola pronounced.

"Oh, you know her?"

"I know of her. And only good things. The same cannot be said for her brother and his wife, I am sad to say."

Mano said nothing, but Buck grunted his agreement.

"Lola, we need your assistance in a matter of great importance," Mano started in again after taking a drink. Fin'ly, gettin' to it, Buck thought. About time. Buck listened as Mano explained all that had occurred and then Lola spoke. This ol' gal's pretty helpful, Buck acknowledged, as they listened to her suggestions regarding where best to seek Casados. She offered ideas about approaching the general, and they listened well to these also.

"Be on your guard. He is even more dangerous now, since the last time you saw him and your uncle won that huge bet," she warned.

Mano nodded, then added, "And Lola, one more thing. When we set out, we had not expected our journey to take us all the way to Mexico City. We are, ah, we are in need, perhaps, of some more suitable clothes so that we do not draw unnecessary attention to ourselves, eh?" He was thinking more of Buck than himself, but even he needed something more formal to enter any place Casados might be found.

"Ah, I think I can help you with that." Lola called for a good looking girl and issued instructions. Mano caught the girl's eye and smiled, a reaction which did not go unnoticed by his hostess.

"I see you are still Domingo's nephew. You are about to be wed. None of this for you, guapo!" Lola laughed. "Unless…" she ventured, raising her eyebrows in a question.

"No gracias, Lola. If you knew my Carmen, you would know that I am only admiring from a distance. I will not be a, cómo se dice, a customer again." Mano laughed.

"That is good. Bad for my business, but good for you. Maybe there is hope for you yet. And hope even for Domingo."

Buck took a swig of his drink. He was seein' a side of Mano he hadn't seen on the ranch or in town. This flirtin' and polite talk left him, well, kinda antsy. Give me a plain ol' saloon, he thought. An' Polly an' the girls any day over this.

"Gentlemen," Lola announced as a stocky balding man with a moustache appeared, garters on his sleeves. "Follow Julio. He will show you where you may bathe and enjoy a shave. A servant will bring you some, ah, more appropriate clothes. Enjoy the bath...unless you can think of some other service we might yet provide?" Lola turned coquettish, batting her eyes at Buck who looked down.

"Er, no, gracias Lola." Mano smiled. "Permiso. Buck, let's go."

Within an hour, a clean and shaved Buck Cannon stood again in the salon, this time clad in a black suit and ruffled shirt. Mano, also clean shaven, wore light gray attire with a red tie and waistband. The fit was not perfect but it was close. Lola was good at sizing up men. From her sofa, she nodded her approval.

"These are borrowed from Zaragoza the tailor. You will return them when you are finished. We shall launder and keep your other clothes here for you," Lola said. I hope this will not become your funeral attire, she thought. She liked Manolito and his gringo friend.

"Hey, you look pretty good, compadre," Mano laughed. Buck just shifted his head to pop his neck and said nothing as he rolled a finger around his collar which seemed kinda tight.

"One thing, Manolito," Lola added as they took their leave. "Do not underestimate Casados. Here," she plucked a derringer from her bosom and handed it to him. "It is better that you leave those sidearms here. Put this in place of security, just in case. If you have to use it, Casados, that pig, will know it is from me." The large initial _L_ engraved on the handle told Mano just what she meant.

"Gracias, Lola," and he took her hand to kiss it and leaned in to place a light kiss on her cheek. Buck nodded his thanks. The two amigos looked at each other, turned, and walked out through the velvet curtains and the batwing doors, bare-headed, into the twilight in search of Jose Casados.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	11. Chapter 11

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Eleven: Mexico City**

On the street corners of Mexico City, in La Zona Rosa Dos and beyond, men lit gaslights, their warm glow brightening the sidewalks and calles as the sun descended. The two friends traversed busy thoroughfares: paved broad streets that followed the routes of the roads first carved by the Aztecs. Tenochtitlán had given way to modernity, but Buck noticed the occasional reminder of ancient days—a broken stone calendar, a ruined icon. The Spanish and French had occupied this land as well, but now the business of a republic burgeoned here.

Large buildings loomed, fine hotels beckoned, grand theaters awaited. Buck gazed at the splendor, but Mano looked only for certain hotels and rushed them from place to place. "Mano, if we been in one hotel, we been in ten," Buck groused. Ain't in that much of a hurry to find Casados, he thought, an' we ain't even stoppin' to eat or have us a drink. "Mano," he continued, "we keep going here, there, grab a cab, walk, run...an' all you do is fast talk in Spanish to folks and then we move on. Look here, I know'd we got to find this general, er hombre, Casados, but we gotta eat sometime, amigo. I am plumb wore out and hungry."

* * *

"Sí, Buck. I guess you are right," Mano put his arm around his amigo's shoulder and pushed him toward a restaurant located on the ground floor of the Hotel Cazador across the street. The maitre d' seated them at a corner table covered with a thick damask cloth that reached to the floor.

"Mano, these knives and forks are gold!" Buck exclaimed as he spied the cutlery. An' they's so many of 'em, he thought. "What do we need with all these forks an' spoons?"

"Probably plate, Buck, and each implement has its purpose. Use the outside ones first," Mano replied, turning to the waiter who had appeared at his side and ordering their meal in Spanish.

"Prob'ly plate. Aw right. Mano, this is the fanciest place I ever been to eat," Buck muttered, his eyes scanning the room. He nodded at the departing waiter. "Looka there...his shoes is as shiny as a dime." Never thought I'd be glad Lola give us these clothes, Buck thought. He grabbed the linen napkin at his place and started to tuck it under his chin when he saw Mano looking at him and shaking his head no.

"Permiso, Buck," Mano whispered. "Like this." Buck watched as Mano unfolded his napkin, shaking it open and laying it on his lap. Buck did the same. Waiters scurried to bring water, wine, silver plates, and bowls of a reddish soup. Watching Mano, Buck lifted the largest spoon at his place setting and dragged it across the top of his soup. Then he stopped watching and lifted the spoon to his mouth, slurping its contents.

"What? This blame soup is cold!" Buck cried in disgust, splashing the spoon back in the bowl. Little ribbons of red spattered and stained the white tablecloth. Mano's eyes widened.

"Buck, shhh. Please!" Mano spoke through gritted teeth and a tight smile. Buck looked at him. What the heck kinda place was this? he wanted to know.

"The soup is a delicacy, Buck. It is called gazpacho," Mano explained, calmer now.

"Well why do it haveta be cold?"

"That is how it is served, hombre. Buck, por favor, try to eat with a little less noise when they bring the main course," Mano continued under his breath, hissing the word "noise." Annoyed, Buck said nothing else but left the rest of his soup untouched. "I'm sorry amigo. I thought you might like it. Perhaps you will enjoy the rest of the meal," Mano added after a moment.

And this Buck did as the waiters brought plates of steaming venison braised in wine and surrounded by roasted new potatoes. "Now this is more like it, Mano." And Buck ate with gusto while Mano grimaced only once or twice at the noise this gusto entailed but said nothing more.

The salad course arrived next.

"Why we havin' this now, Mano?" Buck asked as he looked at his plate.

"It is how they do it in Europe, Buck. They serve the salad after the main course."

"That don't make no sense."

"It cleanses the palate, amigo."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

Coffee and a chocolate soufflé followed.

"This coffee's good, Mano, but this other thing is like eatin' air."

Mano, tired of giving culinary lessons, nodded in agreement. "Yes, Buck, it is."

Waiters swooped in to clear plates and cups. Another brought what looked to Buck like a candle with some sort of wire loop over it. The man lit the candle. A second man arrived with a glass decanter and two large bowl shaped glasses, which he placed in the wire contraption above the flaming candle.

"Mano, psst Mano," Buck whispered. "Whut's going on?"

"Patience, Buck, you will see soon enough, compadre. Soon enough."

Buck's eyes grew wide as the second waiter lifted the decanter, pouring brandy into the warmed glasses, allowing the liquid to heat a bit further before removing them from above the flame. The stems were still cool, but the bowls warm from the heat. Mano accepted the proffered glass, swirling the contents, inhaling the fumes, then taking a sip. He nodded his approval to the waiter and the man served Buck warm brandy as well. Mano sighed and leaned back in his chair, cradling his glass, watching, so Buck did the same as the waiters left them to enjoy their drinks.

"Heck of a fuss fer a lil ol' glass of fire water, heh, yeah, that's right, fire water, Mano!" Buck said, laughing at his own joke. His eyelids at half mast, Mano regarded his friend. Ay yi yi, he thought. We better drink up and get out of here. He gave Buck a forced smile. Next time we will eat in a cantina, he decided as he paid the check.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	12. Chapter 12

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Twelve: Tracking the Bear**

Again on the streets, Mano and Buck entered and exited yet more hotels. Hours later even Mano despaired of ever locating Casados, and they found themselves in La Zona Rosa Dos again.

"Buck, do you recognize where we are?"

"Ain't Lola's jes aroun' the corner?"

"Sí. I think we should head there. Perhaps she will put us up for the night."

"Yeah, she will, hombre, but..."

"Just to _sleep_ , amigo."

Buck placed his hand around the younger man's shoulder, guiding him in the direction of Lola's toward which they both dragged weary feet.

"Momento, Buck," Mano put a hand on his friend's chest as they neared the bordello. "Mira."

A hansom cab had pulled to the curb and from its door, a large man levered himself onto the pavement beside the boardwalk.

"There he is, Buck. Going to Lola's!" Mano whispered.

"Huh?"

"Shh! Look there," Mano hissed.

"Is that him? Is that Casados?" Buck asked in a hushed voice, the quietest he had been all evening.

"Sí. That is Generalísimo Casados, El Oso Grande—the great bear! And see, he is going into Lola's. She is cunning that one, I did not know he was one of her customers."

"Mebbe he ain't reg'lar," Buck ventured.

Once Casados had entered, Buck and Mano hurried across the street in time to peer over the batwing doors and spot Lola herself greeting the general.

"Ay, Bendita!" Mano exclaimed, backing away from the entrance.

"Whut is it, Mano?"

"She is taking him into the salón."

"Well, tha's where ever-one goes who comes here, ain't it?"

"Sí. She may be taking him to a private room. I think maybe we better slip inside, eh? See what we can see."

* * *

The bartender looked up as they walked through the entrance a few moments later. As he reached for the cord on the wall, Mano pulled out Lola's derringer and pointed it at him.

"Uh uh, hombre. Leave it alone."

The man stared, shrugged, and resumed wiping shot glasses with a white towel. Handing the derringer to Buck to keep the bartender covered, Mano edged to the velvet curtains leading into the salón, parting them to peek inside. It looked as though Lola had sent for one of her best girls, and the general followed. There were no guards. Mano looked out the front. The cab that had brought Casados was gone. No one had followed in another carriage. So he is trying to do all this discreetly, Mano thought. An idea popped into his head as he saw the general, in uniform, lumbering up the spiral staircase, a wolfish grin on his bearded face, trailing the beautiful girl.

"Buck, in a minute or two we are going into the salón, and I will have a brief word with Lola, retrieve our guns, and then you and I will visit the general where he is not expecting us, or anyone else."

Buck nodded, curious at this turn of events. Five minutes later they stood inside the velvet curtains which led into the salon. Lola spied them and approached. Like a grand battleship under full sail, thought Mano.

"Ah, buenas noches, Lola," he greeted her "We have been unsuccessful in our search and so have come back for some rest. May we have our gun belts and perhaps you might have a place for us to sleep tonight?"

"Manolito, do you not wish to take some refreshment, a glass of wine, perhaps?"

"No gracias," his tone shifted, becoming personal, confidential. "But I will learn the location of the room into which Jose Casados has just been taken by Marta, I think you said her name was." His smile didn't reach his eyes and although his cheeks dimpled Lola was neither fooled nor amused. Buck kept the derringer so that she could see it, but refrained from pointing it at her.

"Manolito, this is a very foolish thing you wish to do."

"Quizás, Lola, quizás, but I _will_ do it nevertheless. Now our guns and the location of that room, por favor."

"Top of the stairs, second room on the left, and it is indeed Marta," Lola said, her voice rising as she twisted a gaudy gold gemstone ring. "Por favor, Manolito, keep my girls safe?" she said, after which she called to a girl in the corner, issuing orders in Spanish. Mano smiled, held his hand against his chest, and gave a slight bow. Buck collected their guns from the girl to whom Lola had spoken. He said nothing, just handed Mano his gun belt and followed his friend to the spiral staircase.

"Buck, when we reach the room, I will force the door open, and you must enter behind me very quickly," Mano said.

"Jes hold on there, Mano, there you go agin. You always doin' like this. How come you git to go in first? How 'bout me?"

"How about you, Buck? Do you speak Spanish?"

"Huh?"

"Exactamente! Entonces, this is what we will do. You will follow me, entiendes?"

"Huh?"

Mano hurried up the stairs and edged along the corridor, stopping outside Casados's room before Buck figured out what his amigo had said. By the time Mano burst in the door, Buck marched in behind him, that much he had understood without question.

* * *

Jose Casados lay sprawled across a huge four poster bed that filled the room. The girl Marta, in the corner, opened her mouth in alarm, then scurried out the door. Casados was clad only in a loose fitting nightshirt. Bare legs, feet, and toes stuck out. Buck grimaced at the ungainly sight.

"General, me recuerdas, no?" Manolito opened.

Casados pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes popping out, spluttering, and almost choking on the words: "Montoya! What are you doing here?"

"Well, mi General, it is like this. Some men came to the Rancho Montoya and stole a horse. A very valuable horse. A horse that means much to me personally." His voice grew lower as he spoke, conveying the threat that his loaded pistola, pointed at Casados, reinforced. Buck had seen him like this before and knew his friend capable even of cruelty at such times. But Casados'll deserve whutever he gits, Buck thought.

"Your horse? I care nothing about your horse. My men should have…" Casados started with a sneer, then clamped his lips shut.

"Ah!" Mano pounced. "They should have what, mi General?"

Casados remained stony-faced and silent.

"They should have what? Killed me? Killed my uncle?"

"Mano, I think he looks a might guilty. I think you've struck silver, amigo. This here plan wuz fer more than stealin' some horse-flesh. It was somethin' else entire. This here wuz some sort of re-venge."

"Buck, you are right. Our friend here, look at the _great_ bear," Mano said with sarcasm. "He seems to be uncomfortable with our presence. Well, let us make him less comfortable still." Knowing he was no match for Casados's bulk and that he would have to use leverage, Mano ordered the general, "Stand up. Now." Once Casados did so, Mano slipped a foot behind the man's ankles, forcing his legs out from under him. The general slid to the floor with a thud. Buck planted a savage kick in his thigh to keep him down.

"What is the meaning of this?" Casados sputtered more like a beached whale than a bear.

"I'd say we wuz pretty clear on meaning, Mister Casados. You ain't no general and you ain't no gennelman, neither!" Buck threw the general's pants and shirt into the great bear's face. "Git dressed. Them's my orders, gen'ral."

Once dressed and restored to some semblance of dignity, Jose Casados turned to them and asked, resigned, "What are you going to do?"

"First of all, Jose," Mano began. He did not like dignifying this worm with a title any longer. "You are going to explain exactly what happened with my horse and exactly what you and Don Carlos expected to do."

Casados grunted and sank into a gilt chair at a small corner table. Mano sat down in a second chair, leaning back with his arms crossed, waiting and watching. Buck stood, keeping his pistol trained upon the general.

"All right," Casados began. "This is the truth: Vargas was deeply in debt to me. Once again, he gambled heavily and as usual, he lost. He always lost. Sometimes, I would, eh, _help_ him to lose and he never knew. I demanded payment. Again as usual, he put me off. In the past, he would make up the debt because, ah, he could borrow money from his sister…"

"Borrow?"

"Yes. Borrow, sometimes just take. He had access to certain accounts. I do not know. Then this all changed. His sister was to be married, I believe you know to whom." Casados looked at Mano.

"Sí, Continue."

"I had heard of this wedding. Carmen Navarro, she is the most…"

Mano sat up in the chair. "Cuidado, el gusano."

"I was going to say beautiful and eligible of women. Her marriage was a matter of conversation and news. Even my wife…" his voice broke off. "When I learned that Carmen Navarro was to marry you, the nephew of Don Domingo, I became even more interested. I gave Vargas an opportunity to assist me in matters, in exchange for the forgiveness of his debts…"

And Casados rambled on, continuing to reveal all as they listened in disbelief. Thus the story was told. Tangled though it was, it made sense to Buck and Mano. Casados fell silent to watch them as they decided his fate. Mano rose and looked down at him.

"Casados, this I promise you. If you ever pose a danger to my family again, I will kill you," Mano said at last, his voice low and his eyes flat.

"If I do not kill you first," Casados, still haughty, growled.

"Hombre, you coulda talked all day an' not said that," Buck snarled. Looking at Casados, he grunted and asked, "What are we gonna do with the gen'ral here?" Mano grimaced and sighed, raising an eyebrow and, hands on his hips, glancing from Casados to Buck. Good question amigo, he thought. After a moment he spoke.

"Permiso, Buck. Watch him. I think I better go talk to Lola."

"Yep. He ain't goin' nowhere, Mano. But I cain't believe all I jes heard."

"What don't you believe, hombre? That such men exist? Or that such fools think they will succeed?"

"Both, I guess. Mano, you think Lola's gonna be real mad at us, amigo?"

"Mad? At _me_?" Mano grinned, incredulous, cheeks dimpling and white teeth gleaming. "Nunca! Of course not, hombre!" He laughed. "But I am going to go talk to her, nevertheless."

* * *

He found the madam holding court in the salón and edged toward her. He sat beside her on the red and cream sofa and extended his open hand, her derringer resting in his palm. She plucked the gun from his hand and returned it to its proper place in her cleavage. "Lola, I am sorry," Mano began. "I believe I may have caused you some trouble, and since it is Casados…"

"Yes, you have caused me trouble. Much trouble. But Manolito, you must know that I am the keeper of many secrets, many," Lola replied. "One of those secrets is that I am well acquainted with the general's wife. His very rich wife. His very rich wife from a very distinguished family. If it were known to her that the general had been here to my…home...well, she would perhaps cut out his tongue, or at least prevent him from using her money." Lola laughed, the full throaty laugh they had heard earlier. "Do not worry about me."

Mano smiled. "Gracias, Lola. Ah, Lola, I do not think Casados will trouble us more, but if he should…"

"I shall have a chat with his wife in that event, also."

"Muchísimas gracias," he smiled, took her hand and kissed it.

She patted his face. "You are indeed Domingo's nephew."

"Oh, Lola, just one thing more," Mano added. "May we sleep here tonight, por favor? And I do mean _just_ sleep. We leave on the stage tomorrow to return to Sonora."

She nodded and laughed. "Of course. And you will be sure to inform me if there is anything else you require?" she added.

"Seguro que sí," he smiled, thinking, amiga, if you could only make me like the ocean...and pondering the irony that he, Manolo Montoya, would be spending the night in the finest bordello in Mexico City, only sleeping, and that this would suffice.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	13. Chapter 13

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Thirteen: Return to the Rancho Montoya**

Two very tired, scruffy, and dirty caballeros, leading a shiny black stallion, rode past the bronze lions and into the courtyard of the Hacienda Montoya on Tuesday evening before the wedding of Manolo Montoya to Carmen Navarro.

"Don Manolo and Señor Buck Cannon!" announced Pepe to the mix of well-dressed people within the hacienda: Carmen, Don Domingo, Victoria, Doña Maria, and some recent arrivals who had come for the wedding: Carmen's nieces and nephews, Don Carlos, Señor John Cannon, and, most formidable of all, the Doña Dolores de Vargas y Padilla de Santos, and her husband, Hector Santos. The assemblage, flanked by servants, rushed outside—the Cannons first.

Buck and Mano pulled up on their mounts, eyes wide, mouths ajar, looking in silence at the crowd that now filled the courtyard and stared back at them, speechless. Mano resisted the urge to swing his horse around and gallop away. Buck looked at him sideways, knowing just what he felt because he had the same inclination.

"Manolo, my love!" Carmen cried, breaking the silence and running toward him. He saw her and dismounted. They embraced and kissed with passion, his lips, salty, tasting the sweetness of hers. Dios mío, he loved her. He had better remember that, he thought. "I was so worried, mi corazón," she exclaimed.

"You are getting her dirty, you fool!" a voice shriller than a fantasma, if demons could scream, shouted from the assembled crowd. He ignored it.

"I am sorry, my love. Our business took much longer than we anticipated," Mano began. She shut his mouth with another kiss and his heart filled with joy. "I will tell you all about it, but first…" he turned to the crowd and his eyes found those of his future brother-in-law. "Buck and I must have a word with your brother."

Buck had dismounted, handed the reins of their horses to a stable boy, and moved beside Mano and Carmen. "We shore do," Buck said, his arms folded, his voice no-nonsense without a hint of his usual good humor.

"Mi amor, Señor Ruiz told us that the stallion had been stolen," Carmen said. "We knew you and Buck had gone after him."

"Ruiz, how is he?" Mano uttered the question he had been afraid to ask.

"He will be fine, my love. He is here in his home at the hacienda," Carmen replied. Mano smiled and exhaled in satisfaction, glancing at Buck. At least that was something.

"My love, permiso. We have matters to discuss with your brother...and with my uncle."

A short buxom woman, gray hair piled high atop her head to support a huge mantilla, stepped forward at this moment to stare at him. Mano blinked as he felt fierce eyes boring into him. Jewels sparkled at her throat and a massive broach glittered at her breast. She was...formidable. He looked at her and a chill ran through him.

"You are the man who desires to marry my daughter?" she demanded, her voice shrill and haughty—the voice of a demon he had heard earlier. Her eyes, small, enfolded in flesh, flashed menace. Her chin remained high and although she was not tall, she appeared to look down at him.

"Mamá," Carmen sighed. "Mamá, may I present to you, Manolo de Montoya. My fiancé."

"Encantado," Mano recovered himself enough to utter these words with a slight bow. He dared not proffer his gloved hand. She would find it filthy, he thought. She stared but said nothing. He pulled away from her gaze, looked at Carmen, and spoke.

"Perdoname, ladies. We must speak with Don Carlos. Buck?" Buck nodded and they marched toward the welcoming committee, such as it was. Mano paused to shake hands with Big John Cannon, nodded to his sister and future sister-in-law, and glared at Don Carlos, grasping him by the arm and guiding him to the door of the hacienda.

"Come, _brother_. Now." Mano said, his voice brimming with sarcasm.

"Uncle Dom, we need you, too, señor," Buck added, nodding at Domingo who smiled and followed, cigarillo in hand. For a man who had never been much around family, he was indeed acquiring an education, he thought. Just what had happened to so anger his nephew and his nephew's friend?

John Cannon looked at his wife, raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Doña Dolores opened and clamped shut her mouth, deciding for once not to speak. She tossed her head in an imperious manner, grabbed the arm of her husband, and started inside. A few seconds later, all scuttled to follow, but Mano, Buck, and the other two men were already within the study of Don Domingo, and the door was shut. Carmen followed, last of all, wondering just what had occurred.

* * *

Mano shoved Don Carlos into the study and strode to his uncle's desk. Leaning against the desk, half sitting upon the corner, half standing, he reached for Tío's silver cigar box, snapped it open and closed it again, toying with it as a distraction to contain his rage as he looked at his future brother-in-law now standing three feet away. Don Carlos's face blanched. He grasped the back of a chair to keep his hand from trembling while pretending to be calm, aloof, insulted. Buck stopped next to him, standing, hands on his hips, glaring, looking for all the world, Mano thought, like he would either spit on Don Carlos or break his jaw. Either would be fine with me, amigo, Mano thought. Domingo also settled himself against his desk, opposite his nephew. He held a lit cigarillo in his right hand, propping his right elbow against his other arm folded across his stomach. He said nothing, only waited, and after a moment, his nephew set down the cigar box and spoke.

"Don Carlos, would you like to explain to Tío Domingo exactly why there were two thieves watching this rancho for at least several days?" Mano's face, bearded, dirty, and grim, spoke of weariness, but his eyes were cold and black. He remembered Ruiz and the sight of his brother-in-law made him want to strike a blow. He paused, clenching his fists, breathing hard, restraining himself with difficulty. Seldom had he felt such anger. His friend, however, was experiencing no such reservations about smacking Don Carlos. Buck glared at the man and formed a fist which he rubbed with his other hand.

"What do you mean, thieves?" Don Carlos sputtered, perspiration pouring off his brow. "How dare you suggest…"

"You lousy no-account, good fer nuthin' …" Buck's eyes flared with rage. His fist flew and caught Don Carlos a stinging blow to the left eye, flattening his nose as well. The Don reeled backwards, slamming into a chair, upending it and falling to the ground with a mighty thump. Blood poured from his nostrils. Good. I hope you got the blackest eye I ever seed an' you lose a bucket a blood, Buck thought.

"Manolo, please, what is this all about?" Domingo asked, his voice calm and sounding almost bored, although his eyes gleamed.

"Tío, this, this…" Mano ran out of words…"this man, and I use the term loosely...he was behind it all!"

"Behind what, nephew?"

"Don Carlos de Vargas planned the theft of Toronado, hoping to include my death to round out his little scheme." Mano's voice carried a cruel edge new to Domingo who had seldom seen him angry. In truth, Mano had only felt such rage on two other occasions: both involving the safety of his sister.

"Your death? Why?" Domingo asked.

"We found out Don Carlos hadda lotta gamblin' debts. Stealin' Toronado'd give him a way to pay some of 'em off," Buck said.

Domingo regarded Don Carlos who had risen from the floor and now stood closer to the wall. Sweat beaded on the fat man's brow as blood ran down his face. Eyes bulging, jowls flapping as his breath hissed in and out, hands waving a handkerchief to wipe off the blood and then dabbing his chin where a thin line of spittle formed...surely this was not a man unaware of his guilt.

"There is more. If I were killed in the process, he would get to continue enjoying the use of Carmen's income," Mano continued. "And uncle, just to whom do you think he owes the most money? General Casados!"

"Casados? You fool!" even Don Domingo lost his composure at this news, recalling that he himself had once been indebted to the vile, brutal general. To think, I staked the very deed to the Rancho Montoya itself on that final wager, he mused. What an idiot was Vargas. One did not trifle with Casados. Even he, Domingo, had seen enough of the general. "And what have you to say to all of this, Don Carlos?" Don Domingo asked, again calm and controlled.

"I, I …" Don Carlos stammered.

"Don Domingo, the fellas sent by Casados cuz of _this_ piece of heifer dust confessed it all to us," Buck said, indicating Don Carlos. "We left 'em in jail in Cajeme."

"And Buck and I went to Mexico City to discover the truth of what had been told us. That is when we confronted Casados," Mano added.

"You confronted Casados?" Domingo asked, incredulous.

* * *

Those outside could contain themselves no longer. The door to the study burst open and Carmen strode in, followed by her mother. All the rest poured through the door: John, Victoria, the Doña Maria, even Pepe, who remained at the back. Alarmed, Mano looked for the Vargas children but the French governess must have whisked them upstairs at the first sign of shouting.

"Carmen!" Mano exclaimed, moving to her and reaching for her arm as if to escort her away.

"Manolito, you will not put me outside. I am _not_ the cat!" she snapped. Mano's mouth shut but he remained beside her. Buck grinned and Don Domingo smiled.

"What is all this commotion? Has someone been murdered?" the Doña Dolores screamed in a shrill voice that caused all to turn and stare, wide-eyed. "I demand an explanation!" she squawked.

"No one has been murdered, Doña Dolores," Mano said, his tone resigned. Ay yi yi, no wonder my beloved calls you a "force," he thought. A shudder ran through him.

"Madam, it happened this way," Don Domingo began. "Your son has amassed great gambling debts owed to Jose Casados."

"Es verdad, Carlos?" the Doña Dolores demanded. Her son's refusal to look at her told her the truth. Her face reddened and she scowled.

"My attentions to Carmen did not go unnoticed in Mexico City, and certainly not to Casados, who is no friend to Tío Domingo," Mano picked up the story, speaking to Doña Dolores. "Casados asked your son to find out information about me, my uncle, Rancho Montoya, our property, anything that could be useful. I undoubtedly mentioned the horses myself."

"As I did, my love," Carmen said.

"An' you oughta also know, Mistah Vargas, that Casados run up your debts. He wanted you to owe him," Buck added, glaring at Don Carlos, then shifting his gaze. "An', pardon me, Miss Carmen, but your brother was usin' your money to pay off Casados as much as he could."

"Bruto! Estupido!" the Doña Dolores screamed at her son, and Don Carlos was not the only one in the room to wince at the shrillness of her voice.

"Casados sent two of his men to watch the Rancho Montoya," Domingo started again after a puff on his cigar. "They shot Ruiz and stole Toronado. Nephew, continue por favor?"

"Casados told us that their instructions were to lead the stallion away and allow themselves to be followed. They expected Tío or me to pursue, if they got lucky. Toronado was only taken as bait: we were the real targets. The men were to kill whoever followed. If Don Carlos had his way, that person would be me so he could then continue to avail himself of Carmen's resources. They did not expect many to come after them. After all, it was only a horse. Also, with the preparations for the wedding, Casados assumed few could be spared," Mano continued as Domingo nodded.

"The bumbling incompetents could not pull it off," Domingo added. "And Mano tells me that possibly worst of all is what they intended for Toronado. After Manolo's death, the horse, being of no importance to Casados, was to be sent to the slaughterhouse. Thus I might have lost my nephew, and we most certainly would have lost the stallion."

"What is this?"

"No!"

"You cannot be serious!"

The room full of horsemen grunted and gasped in disbelief at this shocking news. To lose a man was bad enough, but a stallion such as Toronado came along only once in a generation, a loss unimaginable. I'd like to punch that fool myself, thought John Cannon as he looked at Don Carlos, incredulous. Instead he put his arm around his wife's shoulders, shook his head, and stared.

"You miserable." the Doña Dolores began, shrill again.

"Worm!" Carmen finished. Pulling away from Mano, eyes blazing, she raised her right hand to slap her brother. But before she could strike, the Doña Dolores grabbed her daughter's arm and brushed it aside.

"Mamá!" Carmen shouted.

The old woman ignored her and strode to Vargas. A mad dog! thought Mano, pulling Carmen back close to him. Better get out of her way. The Doña Dolores charged, landing a roundhouse punch on her son's face. Thwack! Carlos fell backwards into the chair beside which he had been standing. Carmen looked at her mother and brother in shock. Her breathing was heavy. Angry tears coursed down her face, but when at last she spoke, her voice was strong and clear.

"Carlos? You were using _my_ money? No, _Antonio's_ money? I gave you authority to represent me in financial affairs. How could you do this to me? How could you? And now I hear you planned to kill..." her voice broke and Mano, gathered her into his arms, holding her tight. His voice was soft and his hands stroked her hair.

"Calma, mi corazón, calma. No llores. He is not worth it," he soothed her. She longed to use her fists...but not upon Manolito. She wanted to scream but would not, so she wept, shoulders shaking and her head tucked under his chin while he glared at Don Carlos.

"Oh John," Victoria said in a low tone to her husband. "Poor Carmen. To be so betrayed." She looked at Don Carlos and spoke, her voice louder, even, and cold. "Señor, you are the most despicable man in the world!" I have a right to say this, she thought. He has threatened my brother. John pulled her close.

Mano laughed despite himself. "Thank you, my sister. A most rousing defense," he proclaimed. Buck grinned.

Hector Santos then cleared his throat. Grasping the Doña Dolores by the arm, he turned to address the group in a clear, deep voice, unexpected from a man of such mouse-like appearance. "I believe we must think of practicalities now," Santos began. "This wedding will take place in two days. My stepdaughter desires to marry and so she shall. Obviously, these debts of Don Carlos must be settled. Otherwise we are to assume that Casados will have him killed. To many in this room, that would not be the greatest of losses. Still, there are his children to think of. Don Domingo, if we split these debts between us, we may perhaps, with a loan, save the face of this…"

"Worm," Buck supplied.

"Gracias, Señor Buck, yes this worm. And it would be a loan. Of course, we will have to sell his house in the city so that Don Domingo first, and myself later, may be repaid. And the family will have to remove themselves to Hermosillo. I have a small property there that might be suitable. A very _small_ property."

At the mention of the word "Hermosillo," Mano blinked, swallowed, and looked ill. "Hermo...Hermosillo?" he choked on the word. "Madre de Dios," he said under his breath. "Señor Hector, have you no properties, eh, closer to Veracruz?" His voice trailed off as Carmen claimed his attention.

At the mention of the word "small," the Doña Maria, heretofore silent, gasped and collapsed to the floor, fainting dead away.

"Pick up your wife, Carlos," the Doña Dolores sneered. "No, better yet. Leave her there. This is the quietest she has been in years." Turning to her husband, she announced, "Shall we go, Hector?"

The Santos and Vargas contingents repaired to their guestrooms, leaving only stunned Cannons and Montoyas behind, speechless, Carmen now one of them for she stayed as well.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


	14. Chapter 14

**Carmen Navarro Chapter Fourteen: Happily Ever After**

Two days passed in relative calm and both the day of the wedding and the arrival of Padre Sánchez at the Rancho Montoya to perform the ceremony occurred.

"Manolito?" the padre drew him aside at the hacienda that morning. "My son, I understand you and Buck Cannon have had urgent matters with which to contend."

"Yes, Padre, we have. The stallion, Toronado, was stolen."

"And Valencio Ruiz shot. Yes, I have heard all about it. It has interfered with your preparations for this wedding, I know. And you have neglected, understandably so, something most important."

Panic flared. Mano, puzzled, asked, "What Padre? What is there to do?"

"Your confession, my son."

"Chihuahua, Padre, that could take hours. Days. There is no time, Father! The wedding is in two hours."

Padre Sánchez smiled. "We can make it short, my son. Let us repair to somewhere private, your uncle's study perhaps?"

"All right." Mano asked leave of his uncle. Priest and sinner took chairs across from the new Lion's massive carved Spanish oak desk.

"Father, I have sinned greatly. It has been, ah, years since my last confession," Mano opened. Since I was a niño, he thought. The truth was he could not remember.

"I know this, my son. Make it short. Think in broad categories only." Padre Sánchez smiled.

Mano shut his eyes and bowed his head. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned," Mano began with a sigh. "I have known other women, married and unmarried. I have led women into adultery. I have made promises that I have broken. I have killed, although only when it was justified. I have cheated at cards. I have become drunk. I have told lies. I have stolen, large amounts and small amounts. I have stolen horses, my sister's dresses, her favorite hat...I have…" he opened his eyes in alarm, then pounded his forehead with a closed fist. "Dios mío, Padre, I cannot name them all. The more I mention, the more I remember." He sighed, closed his eyes, and continued, "I have taken the Lord's name in vain. I have failed to attend mass. I have acted with disrespect to my father, my sister, my uncle. I have…" his voice trailed off. "Too much to forgive, Padre." He stopped, looked at the priest and shook his head. "Too much."

"No, my son, there is never too much to forgive," Padre Sánchez smiled. "The holy scriptures tell us that if we confess our sins, our Father is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Do not worry."

"Padre, what shall my penance be?"

"My son, for one, you must not let so much time elapse between confessions."

"Sí," Mano agreed.

"And, you must see that your children are raised in the Church."

"Of course, Padre."

"And you must begin to attend mass on a more regular basis, with your wife."

"I will try, Padre."

"And you will treat this woman, your future mother-in-law, with respect."

Mano looked at him and blinked. "My mother-in-law…"

"Honor your mother-in-law, my son," the padre continued, his mouth curving upward into a slight smile. He sighed, "From what I have seen and heard of the Doña Dolores, this alone may suffice for a lifetime of penance."

"Es cierto," Mano replied with a chuckle. Padre Sánchez joined in and the two men embraced. "Thank you, Padre," Mano said, a few seconds later, adding, "Er, Padre?"

"Yes?"

"This respect I must show, it does not need to extend to my new brother-in-law, does it? If so, I cannot do this. I can only promise that I will try not to kill him."

"That will suffice," the padre sighed and then spoke again. "It is good, my son. And she is good, your Carmen. Do not forget this."

"Do not worry, Padre. This I will never forget," Mano paused. "Besides, remember, she owns many guns."

"And she can shoot," the padre added. They laughed again.

* * *

At five minutes before eleven that day, Mano, Buck, and Padre Sánchez, the priest clad in black cassock and white stole, stood in an alcove at the front of the Montoya family chapel, watching the guests filter in. Liveried servants, including Pacquito Ruiz, the son of Rodrigo, acted as ushers but seating, except for the immediate family for whom rows at front were reserved, was open. Mano smiled as he noticed the Butler brothers and Pedro Carr at the back of the church. Vaquero, Roy, and Teresa, the baby asleep in her arms, sat in a pew. And then came Ruiz with his son, Rodrigo, his wife, and family. Pepe and his wife, Señora Cardona, also slid into a row. Their attendance had been Mano's special request. Even so, Pepe's mind raced to the many things which had yet to be done for the wedding breakfast and later, the fiesta. Well, the others could handle it this time, he supposed. It is an honor for us to be here.

Buck stretched his neck and patted the pocket of his black leather vest. Yep, the lasso was still there and so were the gold coins, which jingled. His starched white shirt was stiff around the collar and anytime he put on a string tie, it was too dang tight, but it weren't for long. Mano don't care if he's in that fancy black suit or vaquero gear, Buck thought, eyeballing his friend. But Mano, too, moved his neck from side to side too, just to relax. The collar of his ruffled white dress shirt seemed a bit snug.

Guitar music filled the church and Mano smiled as he saw Reno, clad in a white shirt borrowed from the servants, strumming in the back. Victoria had pressed him into service; the mariachis would not be arriving till later, for the fiesta.

"But Manolo, we must have music in the chapel!" she had declared.

"All right, hermanita! La música it is."

Carmen, knowing what the day meant to Victoria, had not cared. She would have married him in a barn, he knew. Ay, Manito, you do not deserve her. And you definitely do not deserve her family. But then, neither does she, he thought.

"I know what you're thinkin,' amigo," Buck whispered. "An' yore right. You don' deserve her."

"Gracias, Buck."

In floated Victoria on the arm of her uncle. She held a fan and wore a rich satin dress of emerald green crowned by a lace mantilla. She looked lovely. Mano smiled and winked at her as her shining eyes found his. New dress, hermanita? he thought. Bueno. And I will never steal this one, he laughed to himself. John followed them down the aisle, stiff and uncomfortable in a starched white shirt and string tie, but even he smiled when he caught Mano's eye.

"John looks almos' purty, don't he, Mano?" Buck whispered and Mano bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Cain't say the same fer yore brother-in-law," Buck added.

Don Carlos and his wife already occupied the second pew reserved for the Vargas family. Don Carlos's head shone, the few strands of long greasy hair he combed each day insufficient to conceal his baldness. His appearance was not helped by the purple bruise under his eye, the place where Buck had socked him two days before...and the red welt left by his mother's ring as she had struck him, too.

In strode the Doña Dolores, Hector in tow. Her eyes scanned the church and her mouth remained inverted—like a crescent moon upside down. Well, at least her mouth is shut, thought Manolito as a chill again ran through him. He did not like this woman. But Hector gave him a slight smile and Mano remembered again that Veracruz was some distance away.

At this, the padre stepped forward, assuming his position in front of the altar while Mano and Buck followed, stopping at the priest's left where Victoria had instructed them to be.

Reno paused in his playing while the men took their positions. Then he varied the tune as Mano saw Carmen's two nieces walking in, both in white lace dresses. The younger and sillier, when she remembered to do so, scattered flower petals from a beribboned basket. The elder and more serious held a satin pillow upon which rested his grandmother's ring. Victoria had insisted on this as well, bringing the ring from her collection of family heirlooms at the High Chaparral. A jeweler in Hermosillo had sized it for Carmen, checking the setting and replacing a few missing stones.

"But this is your ring, hermanita!"

"Carmen must have this, Manolo. She is part of the family and so is this ring!"

Mano stopped arguing. But he knew Carmen would have been content with a simple silver band. I do not deserve you, my love, again he thought.

Reno paused his playing, watching Mrs. Cannon. At her nodded signal, he strummed a flourish on his guitar to announce the bride's appearance. Mano saw her first. His eyes softened and his lips formed a smile as he watched her step into the arched doorway, her chin tilted up with pride and her eyes, sparkling, finding his. A sensation of warmth swept over him. The small congregation arose and Carmen, awash in ivory and lace and carrying a fan, seemed to glide in, escorted by her nephews who flanked her. This was her wish, so angry was she at her brother that she would not hear of his walking her down the aisle. And as for Hector, he was only her mother's husband and he had enough to contend with in that role. The boys did well, staying just behind their aunt and avoiding stepping on her long skirt. They both breathed audible sighs of relief as they left her at the altar to sit with their parents. The little girls remained in front. They wanted to see Tía Carmen marry Tío Manolo, even though the younger one could not stand still and wiggled throughout the service.

"My children, welcome!" Padre Sánchez exclaimed, inviting the couple to kneel and the congregation to sit down. And thus commenced the marriage ceremony of Don Manolo Sebastian Velasquez y Soto de Montoya to Señora Carmen Sofía de Vargas y Padilla de Navarro...de Montoya.

* * *

"My son, you may kiss your bride!" Padre Sánchez announced at last, and Mano, smiling, lifted his hands, allowing his fingers to caress Carmen's face. He tilted her chin upward and their lips touched for the briefest of moments...which after a few seconds turned into a kiss of great passion as she returned his embrace. The congregation applauded. Carmen and Mano smiled as they ended the kiss and turned to face their guests. Victoria's eyes shone. Carmen's flashed.

"Oh John, if Papá could only see this!" Victoria exclaimed.

"Yup," John pulled her close.

Tío Domingo smiled his usual tight-lipped, enigmatic grin.

* * *

A wedding breakfast for those in attendance followed, served on the veranda. Immediate family members were subjected to photographs inside the hacienda and would be served in the grand dining hall afterward. The photographer—again, Victoria's idea—had come from Hermosillo with an assistant and it seemed to take eons between shots with the setting and resetting of angles, shutters, and flashes.

Years hence, Mano and Carmen's eldest daughter, Victoria Sofía, would treasure the photograph of her parents taken this day—the one in which her handsome papá, standing, and her beautiful mamá, sitting, looked into each other's eyes with undisguised love, her hand in his. Her sister, Antonia Dolores, would prefer the one in which her parents faced the camera head on, her papá's hands on the back of the chair in which her mamá sat, prepared to face life together. In both pictures, smiles crept onto their faces even though the photographer had suggested they remain solemn so that the pictures would be clear.

The pictures were clear nonetheless.

Between pictures, Mano and Carmen circulated among their family, hugging the nieces and nephews and treating Don Carlos and the Doña Maria with icy formality. The Doña Dolores offered her hand to new her son-in-law, and he took it and kissed it. Surviving that ordeal without being poisoned, he smiled at her. He shook Hector's hand.

"Congratulations, you two!" Hector exclaimed, slapping him on the back.

"I suppose you could be worse," Doña Dolores added. And did she...wait...did she give him a wink or had he imagined it? A wink or else he had just been marked by the mistress of Satan, Mano reflected. He chuckled. What was this woman? I should have liked to have seen her with Papá, he thought. Now that would have been most interesting.

"Oh, Mamá!" Carmen shook her head and also laughed, realizing that her husband had started to appeal to the old lady for whatever reason. It was best not to question anything her mother did or felt.

Buck had already pounded Mano on the back and accepted an embrace and kiss from the bride when John grabbed his brother-in-law by the shoulder and pumped his hand with vigor, slapping him on the back and then exchanging polite kisses with Carmen. "Welcome to the family!" John boomed, deep voiced, as Victoria beamed.

Victoria hugged them both with joy yet remained careful not to muss her dress or the bride's. John's eyes twinkled as he handed the couple a telegram which read. "FROM WILLIAM CANNON. STOP. ST. LOUIS, MO. STOP. CONGRATULATIONS. STOP. SEE YOU BOTH CHRISTMAS. STOP."

"Hey, bueno, Blue!" Mano exclaimed. "John's son," he told Carmen who already knew this. "Sounds like he is coming home."

John nodded and Victoria's eyes sparkled.

Tío Domingo stepped up to shake Mano's hand and the two men embraced.

"Gracias, Tío, for everything," Mano said.

"My nephew, and now, my lovely niece," Don Domingo's eyes fell upon Carmen. He kissed her hand and they exchanged light kisses on the cheek. He liked her and she, him. Seeing his uncle ooze charm, Mano reflected it was a good thing Tío was no longer young. Not that this seemed ever to stop him. "My nephew and niece, when it comes time for you to retire this evening," Don Domingo continued, "you will find the servants have placed your things in the largest of the guest rooms, at the end of the hall."

"Oh?" Mano asked.

"Yes, with the help of your sister, we have undertaken a little...ah...redecorating. And this is to be your room whenever you stay at the Rancho Montoya which is," and he paused for a second and looked at them both, "as you know, your home."

"Gracias, Tío. That is most generous of you," Mano exclaimed. "We'd better, ah, wait until later to see it." Carmen, delighted, kissed her new uncle again.

Domingo blew a smoke ring and smiled. He knew Mano would be pleased with the chests and bed ordered from a craftsman in Hermosillo and assembled in secret by the servants. Two wardrobes had also been moved into the room so they could each store their clothes. The linens and bed coverings were new. A place to start their lives. For a man who had lived much of his own life alone and by his wits, Domingo was surprised to realize he now found it comforting and even enjoyable to be surrounded by family. Well, most family, he thought...his glance diverted to Don Carlos for a moment.

As they watched the Vargas clan being photographed, Victoria sidled up to her uncle.

"Tío, you have done so much to make this day special for Manolo and Carmen."

"You, too, my beautiful niece, have been hard at work."

"Yes, and they are perfect together, are they not? She is everything he needs."

"Yes. It does seem so."

"And you, Tío, are responsible for introducing him to her!"

"My niece, the governor's ball was the occasion. We are most fortunate that they ever even met."

"Yes, Tío. I have been wondering, now that I know the reputation and character of Don Carlos Vargas and his history of gambling...just how did it happen that they were even invited to this ball? The governor of Sonora does not know them, does he? They are not friends?"

"Oh, I suspect not, my niece."

"Then how came it to be that… Tío? Is there something you are not telling me? Manolito said you were the first to point her out to him."

"Was I? I do not recall."

"Tío! You arranged this meeting, did you not? You asked the governor to invite them to the ball!"

"Mi hita, would I have such influence with the governor?"

"Oh Tío! I love you!" Victoria kissed him on the cheek. "Papá would be so pleased."

Don Domingo only smiled and blew a ring of smoke from his ever present cigarillo.

* * *

Victoria instructed the musicians to stop playing at ten that evening, and the villagers and guests began to trickle out of the courtyard of the Hacienda Montoya, returning to their homes and lives from the wedding fiesta which had begun that afternoon. Wine had flowed freely and the food had been endless. Don Manolo and his new wife had spoken to each in attendance, Carmen marveling at her husband's command of the names of the families present. He seemed to know them all and even many of their children.

Throughout much of the evening, the Doña Dolores had held court inside the hacienda, offering critical assessments of the food, the wine, the guests, the lack of dignitaries present, the sun and the moon...until Hector whispered to her that if she did not cease, he would drag her upstairs and lock her in their guest room. His smile did not reach his eyes. The Doña grew silent.

As the last of the villagers departed, Manolito looked at Carmen. "Shall we, my love?"

"I thought you would never ask, mi corazón." she answered, her brown eyes flashing. They were ready to be alone and this first night together would feature none of the awkwardness an inexperienced young couple might feel or fear. Victoria and John watched as the new Señor y Señora Montoya slipped discreetly upstairs.

"Victoria, you helped her before the wedding. Do you need to..."

"Oh no, my husband," she interrupted, coy. "My brother made it quite clear that he would handle matters."

"Oh, yup. I guess so." John smiled, kissed his wife, and pulled her close.

"Oh John, I am so happy!" Victoria returned his embrace, eyes shining.

Carmen's maid, waiting outside the bridal chamber, was also happy. She bowed her head to conceal a knowing smile when Don Manolo said with a grin, "Señora, perdón. Pero esta noche, yo voy a ayudar a la Señora Carmen, sí? Gracias." With a glance at the smiling bride, the maid scurried away downstairs as the couple entered their room.

"Ay caramba! Tío Domingo!" Mano exclaimed at the massive carved four poster bed, more magnificent than he had imagined. Flowers filled the room and ivory linens covered the bed. He was speechless.

Carmen stopped before a vase of roses, inhaling their fragrance. She turned to her husband, who latched the door behind him and smiled.

As she moved to him, his lips touched her forehead and he began to assist her in unpinning the mantilla and loosening her black hair. For them, it was the start of one of a thousand little private rituals that married couples—should they choose the right person to wed—come to enjoy.

 _None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow._


End file.
